


The Living Arrangement

by shipaycon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, Roommates, artist fred, background gay but sadly not the focus of this fic, book nerd hermione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipaycon/pseuds/shipaycon
Summary: Hermione Granger owns a flat above her bookstore cafe... and Fred Weasley needs a place to stay. A Fremione fanfiction. Post DH. Fred lives!
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 79
Kudos: 124





	1. Inception

*The Burrow*

Cheers erupt as George sweeps Angelina into a dip and kisses her deeply. Laughing, Fred raises his glass to the pair and bellows above the carousing crowd, “Congratulations to the most love sick pair of kids I have ever had the displeasure to know! You make me absolutely sick.” And with a devilish grin, he drains his mug of butterbeer in one go. Taking a step back, Fred accidentally knocks into someone. “My bad, Granger, my bad.”

“Oh, no, I think it was my fault. I snuck up behind you.” Hermione replies as she moves to grab a butterbeer.

Fred grins down at her. “Why, Granger, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to wriggle your way into my arms.”

“You only wish,” She calls back over her shoulder as she makes her way back to the sitting room.

Fred laughs as he calls after her, “Oh, don’t I!”

Hermione lowers herself onto the couch beside Harry and tucks her legs underneath her. Fred comes along after a minute and plops himself down on the other side of her, knocking into her arm and nearly spilling her drink.

“My bad, Granger, my bad,” He echoes from earlier.

“It’s fine. I suspect that gigantic ego of yours makes it difficult to fit into tight spaces.” Hermione snips as she steadies her mug.

Smirking, Fred leans forward and sweeps his gaze down her oversized jumper and leggings. “I could show you all kinds of little nooks I can fit into if you’d like, Granger. For example, I know this great little closet upstairs we could head up to. I’m sure no one would think to check there for us for at least a couple of hours. We could talk about my ‘gigantic ego,’ as you called it. And I’m sure we’d find some other interesting topics to discuss.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Hmm, tempting. Unfortunately, I seriously doubt we’d both fit in a closet with the oversized balloon you call a head.”

Fred screws his face up in feigned pain and lays a hand on his chest. “You wound me, Granger. Truly you do.”

Hermione snorts and takes a sip of her foaming mug. “Somehow I doubt that. So what will you do now that George is engaged and Angelina is moving in? Won’t it be a bit crowded with the three of you?”

Taking a gulp of his newly topped off glass of butterbeer, Fred shakes his head. “Great brother that I am, I’ve offered to move out so the lovebirds can be alone.”

From his place in an armchair across from them, Ron shakes his head and swallows a mouthful of butterbeer. “I don’t buy it. I’ll bet a galleon George is kicking your sorry arse out on the street.”

Ginny laughs and points a finger at Fred. “No way. I bet you just can’t stand walking in on them doing it on the couch or kitchen table anymore.”

Ron and Ginny shake hands and look expectantly at Fred who laughs and shrugs. “A bit of both actually. I’ve been looking for a flat ever since I walked in on them the first time, and George talked to me about finding a new place the night before he asked Angie to marry him. Trouble is, I can’t find a decent flat anywhere ‘round Diagon Alley, and muggle money confuses me, so muggle London is out. Can’t very well pay rent to a muggle with galleons, now can I?” Standing, he laughs at his own joke and drains the last of his drink. “Ah, well. I’m up for another butterbeer. Ginny, Harry, Granger, could I get one for any of you?”

“I’d take on,” Ron says, downing the last of his own drink.

“No takers? Suit yourselves then.” “Oi! I said I want one, you tosser!”

“Didn’t ask you though, did I?” Fred smirks and swaggers off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Prat,” Ron mutters and looks ‘round at his friends. “No wonder no one will take him for a flatmate.”

Harry looks thoughtfully at Hermione. “He could stay with you, ‘Mione.”

Eyes wide, Hermione chokes on her drink and Harry pounds on her back to ease her coughing. “Excuse me?” She manages to choke out.

Harry hesitates, hastily removing his hand from her and withers under her heated glare. “Well it’s just-just that- I uh… I only thought that-”

“That could actually work.” Ginny breaks in at that point and Harry shoots a grateful look at his girlfriend. Hermione’s glare melts into shock as she turns to the red headed girl.

“What?”

Ginny shrugs, “Think about it. You have that extra room you're using for storage. You need someone to make sure you eat every once in a while -- oh, don’t look at me like that, ‘Mione. Eating a single biscuit whenever you remember to doesn’t count. And takeout everyday cannot be good for you,” Ginny pauses long enough to smirk and place a single finger against Hermione’s mouth to stop her indignant protests. “Hush, grownups are talking. You’ve enough space not to trip all over each other. He’ll be off at work most days, so you’ll only see each other in the evenings.” Ginny breaks into a broad grin after a moment, “And I’ll bet Fred would even be willing to help out around the bookshop if it meant not having to live with two very loud newlyweds that seem to always forget that silencing spells exist.” Ginny knew very well that Hermione is low on staffing at the bookshop cafe she owned and desperately needed help staying abreast of all the work that had to be done.

Hermione leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at the lot of them. Finally she looks to Ron and sighs, “What do you think?”

Ron looks taken aback and glances around first at his best mate then to his sister and finally back to his ex. His expression is absolutely bewildered as he points a finger at himself in question.

Hermione huffs out a breath and runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her carefully tamed curls. “Yes, you, Ron. Even though it didn’t work out between us, I feel like it might be at least slightly awkward to have your brother living with me. And you just said you’d pity the person that’d take him as a flatmate!”

Flushing slightly, Ron interrupts her with a shrug, “When a friend asks for help, you help them.” Ron winces then adds, “Even if they are the world’s biggest prat.”

Ginny shakes her long mane of hair and breaks back into the conversation, “Nonsense, Ron. He’s only a prat to you. He's not all that bad otherwise. He’s cleaner than you for one thing. He does his own laundry, he’s handy with healing and cleaning spells, and he can cook.”

“He’s also the one that keeps track of inventory at WWW, so he’ll probably be able to help you with keeping track of your horde of books at the shop.” Harry chooses that moment to enter back into the conversation now that Ginny had done most of the damage control.

Knowing she was beaten, Hermione leans back and glares into her mug for a moment before sighing and looking up at her friends, “Alright, fine. But if you three try to coerce me into taking in another stray, you’ll be in for a nasty surprise. And if this arrangement goes badly, I will not hesitate to say ‘I told you so.’”

As Hermione stands up Ron snickers, “Have you ever?”

“Oh har har, Ronald. Very funny.” Hermione snaps and stalks off to find Fred.

She finds him tying a trip wire at the bottom of the stairs and stands behind him with her hands on her hips. “Oh, this will never work.”

Fred stands up quickly in surprise, but visibly relaxes and grins when he sees Hermione.

“Oh, just you, Granger. Have you finally come to your senses and decided to drag me up to the closet to have your wicked way with me then?”

Hermione throws her hands up in the air and glares, “Oh, never mind! I don’t know why I let them talk me into this.”

As she turns to stomp off, Fred grabs her arm and pulls her back. “Sorry! I’m sorry. What was it that you wanted to say?”

Hermione glares at him in suspicion and finally softens enough to answer hesitantly, “I have a two bedroom flat above my bookshop. I’m not using the second room, and thought -- okay Harry thought -- that it would be alright if you stayed in the spare… Since you’re in, well, need.”

Fred smiles and laughs, “Need, indeed.” He looks down at her, wiping all amusement off his face. “You’d offer this when all I did earlier was tease you?”

Hermione shrugs, “When a friend asks, you help them.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, Granger.”

“Look, I can take it back if you want,” Hermione huffs.

Fred puts up a hand. “No, no, no. I appreciate it. You’re the best offer I’ve had in three months, so I’ll take it. I have to admit, though, I never thought you’d be asking me to go home with you.” Grinning he winks and wriggles his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Hermione smacks his arm lightly, “You’re the limit. Don’t make me regret being nice and offering you a place in my home.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, love. But the offer to take me to some hidey hole and snog me senseless is still on the table.”

Hermione sighs and turns to head back to her friends, “Meet me at the The Voyage tomorrow and we can discuss the details.”

Fred raises his eyebrows, “The Voyage? Already planning a lovers’ getaway with me?”

Hermione rolls eyes, “Voyage of the Imagination is the name of my bookstore. Just stop talking and meet me tomorrow before I change my mind.” With that she walks back to enjoy the rest of the party with her three best friends.

*Hermione’s flat above The Voyage*

Later that night Hermione sits in her living room reading one of her favorite books when the fireplace in front of her erupts in emerald flames. She barely has time to wonder who would be calling at this hour when Fred stumbles through and coughs out a lungful of soot.

“Sorry, sorry. I know you said tomorrow, but George and Angie have been humping like dogs all night, and after the fourth-”

“Fred!”

“Right. Sorry.” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “I just couldn’t stand listening anymore, so I thought about your offer and knew you’d still be up, so I thought I’d come by and try my luck.”

Hermione looks puzzled as she gestures at a chair from him to sit and slips an old bit of parchment into her book. “How did you know I’d still be up?”

Fred shrugs as he sinks into the chair, stretching out his long legs before him. “You always sat up reading until at least midnight at Hogwarts and the Burrow. I can’t count how many times I saw you passed out in the Common Room and had to slip a blanket over you to keep you from freezing. And you’d always have a book clutched in one hand.” Fred laughs and shakes his head. Hermione, however, has a politely confused look on her face and seems to have zoned out looking at the floor. “...So how about it then? Granger?”

Hermione head snaps up and looks back at Fred, “What? How about what?”

“Is it alright if I stay tonight?”

Hermione stands and stretches. “Well I suppose, but you’ll have to sleep on the couch. Your room is still full of boxes. I’ll grab you a couple blankets and a pillow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go through so much trouble, Granger. I can just sleep in your bed with you. That way you’re not put out for the night and I can protect you from any potential boogeyman.”

Hermione rolls her eyes and looks back at him. “Fred. Couch. Now.”

Fred grins and stands up to remove his shoes, “Just thought I’d offer. Gentlemanly thing to do, you know.”

Hermione lets out a small laugh and turns back to gather some blankets from the next room, “Gentlemanly, sure.”

She returns with two blankets and a pillow after a minute of foraging in the spare room and brings them back to Fred. “Here. I’ll be up at 9 to go down and unlock the doors. I’ll try not to wake you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a deep sleeper. Thank you, Granger. I really appreciate this.”

“Hermione.”

“No, I’m Fred.”

“You might as well call me Hermione since we’ll be living together.”

“Ah, right. Thank you… Hermione.”

Hermione takes a step back as he takes the blankets. “You’re welcome. I’ll be going to bed now.”

Just as she reaches her bedroom door, she hears Fred say something and turns back to look at him. He’s still standing where she left him as if rooted to the spot. “What?”

“Nothing. Goodnight, Hermione.”

“Goodnight, Fred.” She closes her door softly behind her and gets ready for bed.


	2. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred makes breakfast and Hermione concedes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO everyone. SO sorry to upload this late, but I 100% thought today was Tuesday. Like, all day. Like, I missed a class because I thought it was Tuesday until right this minute. Anyway - I will be uploading two chapters tonight because they are EXTREMELY short. So enjoy that, but from here on, it should be a weekly update.  
> Lastly, there is no beta. We die like warriors.

The first thing Hermione registers is that something smelled good.... Really good. 

  
She rubs the sleep out of her eyes before glancing down at the alarm clock on her bedside table. Her stomach drops. She was supposed to unlock the doors for her three opening employees in _five minutes_.

  
Suddenly shes's a whirlwind of motion. In one movement, she's out of bed, ripping off the ratty old t-shirt she used as pajamas and pulling on her slacks which are quickly followed by her maroon turtleneck. There's a moment of indecision as she glances at her unmade bed, but she shakes her head and attempts to coax her bedhead into a bun with one hand and slip her left shoe on with the other. She all but falls out of her bedroom door trying to get through it, and glances up at the kitchen, catching herself on the door frame.

And there's Fred, holding a spatula in one hand and wearing the floral apron her mother had made for her two years prior at the Empty Nester Beginner's Sewing Class (and had never been worn until this moment), while standing over her rarely used stove. The scene playing out in her kitchen was so unexpected, so bizarre, so _domestic_ that Hermione's mind freezes and she stops in her tracks, one hand clutching the other shoe she had been about to put on.

  
Not looking up from dipping the last piece of bread in his egg mixture, Fred greets her with a cheery -- _too_ cheery, "Good morning, sunshine! I've prepared French-fried bread for your breakfast. Considering it was just about the only thing I _could_ make with the complete _absence_ of anything else that could _remotely_ be called food in this kitchen I feel like it turned out pretty well. We're going to need to do some shopping later... Only four things in your crisper -- I don't know _how_ you call this a proper kitch- Why are you looking at me like that?" Fred finally looks up from his stack of toast and notices that Hermione had not moved from the doorway.

  
"You... made breakfast?" Hermione's voice is tinged with hesitation and a fair amount of confusion as she absently runs a hand through her hair, ruining the already falling out bun.

  
Now it's Fred's turn to be confused. "Yes. Weren't you listening? French-fried bread. Er, why are you holding a shoe? You're not going to hit me with it, are you?"

  
It was as if Fred's question had brought her back to life. Hermione's brain jarred back to reality and she hastily slipped on the shoe in question. " I have to open the doors."

  
Fred puts hands on his hips in his best Mrs. Weasley imitation, which is pretty spot on with the added floral apron visual. "We need to have a serious conversation about the lack of food in this house. It's not health-Don't you go walking away from me, young lady!"

  
"We can talk later! I just have to go downstairs to unlock the doors!" Hermione whirls from her spot and dashes to the front door, pausing to change her shoes to the correct feet.

  
"You're a witch! Apparate down and _Alohamora_ the door." Fred slides the last piece of toasted bread off the pan onto a large plate where five other pieces had already been stacked.

  
"The doors are _glass_ , Fred. I'm not about to break the International Statute of Secrecy to save myself the what, what _three_ extra minutes it takes to _walk_ downstairs!"

  
Hermione yanks open the door, and as she runs downstairs she could hear him half shout a weak, "This conversation is not over!"

* * *

Once she comes back from letting her three openers in, Hermione lowers herself onto a bar stool. "You have five minutes to finish what you wanted to say."

  
Fred is supervising the dishes washing themselves in her sink while sitting on the counter and eating his plateful of French-fried bread. He sets his forkful back down on his plate and speaks in a high voice, "Thanks for a really stellar breakfast, Fred. I really appreciate you getting up early and making this for me. And thanks for washing the dishes. I could have washed them since you made breakfast, but you still did them. Oh, how _thoughtful_!" And in his normal voice, though slightly lower, "No, Hermione, it was my pleasure. A good roommate is happy to help." He looks at her sternly.

  
"You just wasted two minutes," Hermione huffs and brings her hands up to fix her misshapen bun.

  
Fred sets his almost finished plate down next to him, hops off the counter, and walks across the kitchen to lean across the island counter she's sitting at. "Oh, no I didn't. You are going to sit there and be reprimanded about the complete _lack_ of food in this kitchen. What do you even _eat_? You don't have _any_ of the essentials! You should have meat and cheese and biscuits and fruit and, and, and _vegetables_! Merlin, woman, you don't even have vegetables!"

  
"Fred, _please_! Can we talk about my lack of vegetables later? I'm usually downstairs working by now." Hermione moves to stand, but stops when she sees the look of absolute horror on his face.

  
"You don't even eat _breakfast_ now? It's the most important meal of the day for Merlin's sake." Fred points at the heaping plate in front of her, "Sit. Eat. We still have to talk about our living arrangement."

  
Once he's seen to it that she's taken a few bites, Fred grabs his plate off the other counter and sets it down across from her. "I'm assuming there will be rules."

  
"I actually hadn't worked any out... I was planning on getting up early and drawing up a list, but you can see how well that worked out."

  
"What do you say we go shopping and make a list together?"

  
"That sounds... Sensible."

  
"No one's ever accused me of being sensible before. I don't know if I should be offended or not."

  
Hermione wacks his arm, "That was a compliment."

  
"Merlin, Granger." Fred pouts and rubs his shoulder. "You'd make a good bludger."

  
Hermione rolls her eyes. "You're calling me Hermione now, remember."

  
Fred's mouth slides back into a grin. "Oh yeah. I remember how _intimate_ and _familiar_ you'd like us to be now. I know you're in love with me and everything, but don't you think we skipped a step before moving in togeth- Ow!"  
Hermione had slapped his arm again, harder this time. Fred grins again. It was definitely worth the wrist slaps if he got to see how she reacted to his teasing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and let me know if you enjoyed it! Any and all thoughts are welcome!


	3. The War on Vegetables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred and Hermione go shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. We die like warriors.

*Grocery store*

“How about this box of biscuits? They look pretty good.”

“What’s the sugar content in them?”

Fred turns the box around in his hands, searching for the nutritional content. His eyes scan down to find the correct line and widen slightly when he finds the sugar content. He carefully schools his face and looks down at the woman in front of him. “Just enough to give it some sweetness.”

Hermione glares up at Fred, trying to determine whether he was lying. She finally rocks back on her feet and turns away, pulling out her  _ very _ short grocery list. "Absolutely not."

"You've literally vetoed  _ everything _ I asked for.  _ Please _ , Hermione.”

“You’re going to rot your teeth with those, Fred. I can’t let them in the flat!”

“How about this, okay? What if  _ I _ buy them, and  _ you _ practice some of your inhuman Hermione Granger self-control, and just -- just  _ not _ eat them. Let  _ me _ eat them.”

“Fine. Fine! But when  _ you _ have a bad tooth, don’t come crying to me. Because I will  _ not _ hesitate to say that  _ I told you so _ !”

Fred runs a hand over his face and looks wearily at Hermione. "I didn't really think you would, Hermione." He shakes his head, takes hold of the trolley, and walks them into a neighboring aisle.

Hermione runs her hands over the shelved merchandise before selecting several containers of mixed nuts and dried fruit. She deposits them into the cart and wanders further down the aisle in search of her favorite tea.

Fred watches her for a moment before walking their trolley down to the tea section and joins in on her perusal. He selects an earl gray and reads the back of the box before picking up a second of the same and tosses them both in the cart.

He waits in silence before pointing to a shelf above Hermione’s head. “Peppermint is up here.”

Hermione’s head snaps up from where she was crouched down, looking at the lower shelves. She stands slowly, looking at him in confusion. “How did you know I was looking for peppermint?”

Fred half shrugs, plucks a box from the upper shelf and offers it to her, not looking at her. “It’s what you drank at school. He tilts his head to the side. “That and chamomile – when you couldn’t sleep.”

Hermione furrows her brow and takes the proffered box. “When…?”

She doesn’t finish her question.

Fred rubs behind his neck before shrugging again. “I’m observant.” He turns away and clears his throat. When he turns back to her, the moment has passed, and he grins wolfishly at her.

“Now let's get you some produce to strengthen your tiny body.” He places one hand on her shoulder to turn her around and gently presses her forward toward the produce section.

Hermione scrunches her nose and looks over his shoulder at Fred. “I’m  _ not _ tiny. I’m only an inch below average.”

“And I’m  _ several _ inches taller than average, which makes you absolutely  _ miniscule _ to me, little miss,” Fred grins down at her and almost walks her straight into a shelf of lettuce heads.

“I really think we’ll be fine with just a few apples. I don’t eat all that much.”

“And  _ that _ , my dear, is  _ exactly _ your problem. You don’t eat enough produce… or protein… or carbs… or, or - you just don’t eat enough  _ period _ . Ah, here we are.”

They arrive at the produce section and Fred immediately loads Hermione’s arms with apples. She’s scowling at him and he just grins at her. “You did say apples, didn’t you?” He moves to put some of her apples into a plastic bag, but she interrupts him.

“Fred Weasley, you drop that bag! Haven’t you heard of global warming? What about Garbage Island? There is  _ no _ way  _ any _ one living in my flat will be contributing to that monstrosity. We will be using the reusable bags  _ I  _ brought.” Hermione juts her chin at the wad of bags in the trolley, and Fred, grinning, dutifully disentangles one and begins transferring the apples from her arms to the bag. 

“So, what else did you want to get?” Fred looks around the surrounding vegetables before turning to look at her.

Hermione bites her lip in thought before answering. “I was thinking some bagels and cream cheese. We have everything else I needed.”

Fred breaks in with a laugh, “Hermione, I meant what other  _ produce _ do you want?”

Hermione frowns at him. “I thought apples was enough  _ produce _ .” When Fred shakes his head, she sighs. “Fine... Pears. Apples and pears. Is that enough?”

Fred jovially shakes his head and bounces on his toes. “I’m afraid not, love. What vegetables or fruits do you like besides apples and pears?

With another sigh, Hermione pouts at him. “I don’t really  _ like _ fruits and vegetables.”

Fred tilts his head and furrows his brow. “How can you not like vegetables?”

“They’re bitter and they all taste the same.” Hermione shrugs, examining a beet.

Fred stares at Hermione like she’d just grown a second head, and sputters, “They all taste - they taste -  _ What do you mean they all taste the same _ ?” He waves his arms around them at the selection, “Carrots and pineapple and pomegranate and cucumber and, and, and  _ onion _ ? Merlin, Hermione, how can you even  _ say _ that?” Fred paces up and down between the tubs of produce before turning on the spot and pointing one long finger at Hermione, who drops the beet she was holding and takes a step back.

“Hermione Granger, I promise- no, I  _ vow _ that I, Fredrick Gideon Weasley, will teach you to like vegetables.” Fred projects in a booming voice that echoes throughout the small grocery store and makes Hermione flush when all eyes turn to them.

Fred dashes about the produce section, picking out squash, kale, carrots, and other various produce.

Hermione grits through her teeth, “Fred Weasley, if you do not shut up and stop making a scene, I will  _ grab _ you by the bollocks and  _ force _ you to shut up.” Fred quickly drops from his outlandish pose and covers himself. “Now, we will  _ quietly _ walk over to the check stand and check out  _ without _ causing another scene.” Hermione stalks over the Fred, stuffs the vegetables in his arms into one of her bags, and whips the cart around.

Fred walks docilely behind her until they’re halfway to the check stands when he turns on his heel and walks back into the aisle, muttering a quick, ”I’ll be right back.”

Hermione halts her progress and stares at his retreating back before he disappears around a corner. She pushes the trolley out of the way and leans against it, staring at her hands and planning her revenge on Harry for suggesting this outlandish scheme and Ginny for convincing her that it would be a good idea.

Fred walks out with multiple items in his arms. He dumps them into their cart before turning and grinning at Hermione, “Sorry, love. I know how much you wanted to  _ grab _ me and  _ make _ me behave, but –“ He dances out of reach when she moves to smack him again and laughs – “I need you to wait until we get home. I picked up your bagels and cream cheese along with a few things other items I wanted to use for dinner tomorrow.”

“Dinner tomorrow?” Hermione tilts her head and stares at him, not liking how often he made her confused with his surprise announcements. 

"Well, it  _ would _ be tonight, but I have to go into the shop at three to close up. You'll have to survive without my pleasant company for the evening." Fred grins at her and nudges both her and the cart toward a checkout lane. "Shall we had out? I'd like to get this-" he juts his chin at the cartload of groceries- "all put away and rules hashed out before I leave for tonight." 

Hermione tears her eyes away from him and woodenly begins to move their items onto the conveyor belt. She had a feeling this man's behavior would often be the source of her surprise and confusion in the future. 

And Hermione _ hates _ both surprise and confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review and let me know if you enjoyed it! kisses


	4. Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this arrangement is going to work, Fred and Hermione need to lay down some rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... uh... it's Friday? Somehow I still have no idea what day it is. Sorry for getting this out two days late! My b.

-Rules-

Fred picks up the pen and presses it to the paper Hermione had dropped into his hands (“They’re much more practical than quill and ink. Honestly, I don’t know why Hogwarts hasn’t upgraded.”). “Right. First rule: Common areas (living room, kitchen, bathroom, parlor, laundry room) are to remain clean. Pick up your own items.” Fred begins writing, but presses too hard with his new utensil and pokes a hole in the paper. 

Hermione simply rolls her eyes and demonstrates the correct pressure. “Obviously.”

Fred finishes writing and slowly raises his head to look up at her. He stares at her for a moment before sweeping a hand toward the living room and hall where every available surface had been covered in stacks of books. “Is it, though?”

Hermione glares at him. “Where else am I going to put the ones I’m reading?”

“You can’t possibly be reading  _ all _ of them at once. I get maybe two or even three, but  _ thirty _ ? And  _ more _ ?” He shakes his head and folds his arms across his chest. “That’s a stretch, Hermione.”

Hermione sighs in irritation before responding, “Alright, fine. I’ll put them away. But if I can’t have my books out, you can’t leave your gizmos or whatnot laying around.”

Fred nods. “Only fair.” He makes another note and looks back up at her. “What’s next?”

Hermione looks down at the counter, biting her lip in thought. She nods to herself then looks up at Fred. “Clothes must be worn at  _ all _ times. Don’t look so surprised, Fred. Angelina told me about your Naked Tuesdays with George. I will  _ not _ have naked men running around my house.”

“Naked Tuesdays are an institution! You can’t just  _ outlaw _ them!”

“Fred-”

“What about self expression? Or, or self confidence? Being comfortable with your body builds confidence!”

“If you have problems with your body, you can work on that by _ yourself _ . I don’t need to watch your transformation from a naked mole rat into a beautiful butterfly.”

“Naked mole rat? I’ll show you-”

“Fred!”

He snaps his mouth shut and leans toward her slightly. He lowers his voice into a more innocent sounding cadence. “But you’ll miss your chance to ogle me.”

Hermione rolls her eyes and looks at his appearance -- the same clothes from the previous day, slightly mussed hair, and a dark smudge just to the right of his mouth. “I can see you just fine now. I don’t need Naked Tuesday to look at you.” She leans forward and wipes away the smudge before leaning back to look at him.

He stares at her for a moment. “I-” he clears his throat and takes a deep breath before looking back at her. “Right. No Naked Tuesdays.”

Hermione smiles. "I knew you’d come around.”

Fred grunts non-committedly and writes their second rule, “What else?”

“Laundry. Laundry needs to be done in a timely manner. I don’t want to be stuck waiting for you to switch the drier for two days and I’m sure you wouldn’t like that either.”

Nodding absently, he makes another note. “Right. Makes sense. And?”

Hermione bites her lip again but doesn’t have a chance to answer before Fred speaks up again.

“Oh! I know. Friends. Even though we run in a lot of the same circles and know most of each other’s friends, it would probably be nice to know when people are over.” bbb

She nods and lets out a sigh. “I would also like to know when you’re planning on bringing home a date.” When he raises his eyebrows in surprise she explains, “I’m not naive. I remember your reputation as a ladies’ man at Hogwarts, and I’m sure you’ve carried on, but in a more, ah,  _ adult  _ capacity.”

Fred shoves a fist and his mouth and his eyes start to water from the effort of holding back his laughter. He finally schools himself and barely manages a choked, “And you, Granger? Have you… ‘carried on in an adult capacity?’”

She stares him down for a moment.

“Okay. Don’t talk about Granger’s dating life. Got it.”

“ _ Moving on _ . I have another rule.” She makes sure he’s listening before continuing. “No pranks.”

He furrows his brows and is suddenly all business. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said. No pranks on the premises.”

“Granger, my  _ job _ is to do pranks. That is my  _ profession _ . I could lose my creative process and the entirety of WWW would  _ fail  _ if I didn’t prank! Do you  _ want  _ my business to fail?"

Hermione chews on her lower lip and she looks anxious. “It’s not that I want that to happen or even that I hate pranks. I don’t hate pranks. I think some of your past ones have been hilarious and very much needed. Like the time-”

Fred leans forward and covers her mouth with his hand. “As much as I love to hear you compliment me, I  _ think _ you had a point somewhere in your rambling. Get to it.” He removes his hand and quirks an eyebrow up at her.

She takes a breath. “I hate surprises. And I  _ hate _ being the victim of a prank.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair, mussing it even further. “Then how about I promise not to prank you.”

Hermione doesn’t look quite convinced and merely frowns at him. He continues.

“Okay… and I stop all pranks directed at you that I hear or know of.”

She furrows her eyebrows.

“And no pranking your employees or customers.”

She begins chewing her lip again.

“And I tell you about all pranks before they happen no matter who they’re directed at.”

She finally,  _ finally _ smiles and he knows he’s just won -- sort of. At least he can prank their guests.

Hermione slides off the bar stool. “Well if that’s settled, I need to head downstairs and help my employees.” She pauses and looks at him. “Unless you need help moving in.”

He holds up his hand in surrender. “No, no. You go ahead. I’ll have George help me. He should be on his lunch break soon.”

“Perfect. Well, -” She turns slightly away from him. “Let me know if you need anything I guess. I’ll be down in my office.” She turns completely and takes a couple of steps away before turning back on her heel to look at him. “Do you know where my office is? Or where your room is?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve never been here before last night, remember?”

Hermione sighs and looks at her wristwatch before waving him toward her. “I can put some things off for another half hour. Follow me and I’ll give you the tour.”

She takes him to the door directly across from the kitchen, opens it, and runs a hand down her face. “This is your room, but I’ll need to clean it out first. I’ve been using it for storage.”

She leaves the door open and opens the door a couple feet down the hall to the right. “My bedroom.” She opens the door and allows him to look in on her neat (except for the bed that she still had not made) purple bedroom before closing it again.

She walks him around the rest of the flat -- the parlor, bathroom, laundry room, and bar area -- before bringing him out the door through which she had disappeared to open the shop earlier that morning and down the stairs. She waits for him to descend the spiraling staircase before opening the door into the shop.

Fred quickly realizes their “front door” is cleverly hidden in a bookcase against the wall. He turns to look at Hermione and sees that she’s grinning at him. 

“I’ve wanted to have my own secret door since I read about them when I was little.”

Fred laughs and slings an arm around her after closing the door behind them. “You still are little, Hermione.”

She grins, rolls her eyes, and opens her mouth to make a remark but is interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Miss Granger?”

Hermione quickly shrugs off Fred’s arm and turns around. “Ah, Mr. Austen. I didn’t see you come around the corner.” She smiles politely at the newcomer.

Mr. Austen smiles widely before offering his hand to Fred. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Fred takes the hand and almost has his hand crushed before quickly dropping his hand. “Fred Weasley.”

“James Austen. My mother would have named me Jane had I been born a girl. She loved her books, my mother. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess.” Mr. Austen laughs and looks back to Fred. “So how do you know my Miss Granger?” He looks down at Hermione. “A new suitor hasn’t beaten me to your heart, I hope?”

Fred answers for her. “Just her flatmate.”

Mr. Austen quirks an eyebrow at the two of them, making him look a bit more sinister than his easy going demeanor originally made him seem. “I see. How did you two meet?”

“We attended the same private school. Hermione here was in the same graduating class as my younger brother.”

Mr. Austen nods politely. “And what is it that you do?”

Hermione smiles at Fred. “Fred started a really wonderful joke shop with his twin brother.”

Mr. Austen barely conceals a sneer in his smile to Fred. “A joke shop, you say? How is business in your  _ joke _ shop?”

Fred smirks back at Mr. Austen. “Booming, thank you. If you don’t mind, Hermione and I are a tad busy moving me into the flat. Excuse us.”

“Oh, of course. Hermione, I will see you this weekend for the banquet. And please let me know when this flatmate position opens up. I know how you appreciate  _ intelligent _ conversation. Mr. Weasley.” He kisses Hermione’s hand, nods to Fred, and continues down the book aisle.

Fred frowns down the hall at Mr. Austen’s retreating back. “I’m not a fan of him, Granger.”

She sighs and looks back in Mr. Austen’s direction. “I’m not either if I’m honest. But he donates a serious amount to The Voyage. He also helped me get the sanction to expand the bookstore into a café. He’s a powerful man, and I really am thankful for everything he’s done for me and The Voyage. So I accompany him to the banquets and other little dates he asks me to attend.” She shrugs and looks at Fred with a small smile. “Shall we?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, lifts his shoulders, and grins. “After you.”

* * *

  
  


Following the tour of the bookshop, Hermione’s office (“How are there this many books crowded in here? Merlin, woman, leave some books for the customers!”), and the cafe, Hermione walks the two of them back upstairs.

“This place is really impressive, Granger. I thought you wanted to go into politics though. Why did you start a bookshop?” Fred praises her as they finish the climb and enter through their front door and walk back into the kitchen. 

Hermione smiles and picks up a pear. “I’ve always wanted a bookstore. I worked two years at the Ministry right out of Hogwarts, but I quickly burned out when I realized the miles of red-tape would make anything I wanted to do move at a snail’s pace. So I quit, much to Kingsley’s dismay, and started this place. I still do a bit of consulting though.” She shrugs. “It’s a quiet life, but after the War and the spotlight that being a member of the ‘Golden Trio’ brings, I’m grateful for some quiet.”

Fred stares at her in amazement. “I honestly think you could do anything in the world, Granger.”

She rolls her eyes and turns away from him. “Hermione. You’re calling me Hermione now.”

Fred walks around and bends down until he’s at her eye level. “I honestly think you could do anything in the world,  _ Hermione _ . I really do.” He straightens but continues looking at her with a crooked grin.

“Um… thank you, Fred.” She blushes and takes a step away from him. “If you want to go back to your flat and pack, I’ll get started here and clean out your room.” She gives him a quick smile and disappears behind his bedroom door.

Fred laughs to himself, shakes his head, and makes his way to the fireplace. It was time to coerce George into helping him move.


	5. Pajamas and Bikinis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to the Waterpark... you know... when they were open and it was safe to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I do this every week. I'm in bed about to set my alarm when I notice the day. Wednesday. I've known it's Wednesday all day because I've done my Wednesday classes and lab. So why am I surprised? We'll never know. So here it is!
> 
> Let me know what you thought :) The first couple of chapters were pretty rough, but these next few ones are some of my favorite.

-The Flat-

_ Whir whir whir rattle whir whir whir rattle whir whir whir rattle whir whir whir rattle whir.... _

It's 2 am, Hermione's prime deep sleep time, but Fred is in the next room making  _ something _ on his sculpting wheel and causing a bloody  _ racket _ . It had been fine at first and had even lulled her to sleep with the soft  _ whir whir whir _ , but somewhere around 1:30 an annoying little  _ rattle _ had been thrown into the mix.

And it was driving Hermione  _ crazy _ .

After another half hour of tossing and turning from that  _ infernal noise _ , Hermione just can _ not  _ stand it anymore. She whips the blanket off of her, clambers off her bed and marches to his bedroom door where she raps ferociously until Fred calls her in.

She leans against the door frame, shielding her eyes from the blinding light in his room. " _ Fred _ , if you can't at least cast a silencing __ spell on your room when you're making that infernal  _ racket _ , I'm going to  _ hex _ you."

Fred glances back at her and immediately turns back to his sculpture. "Okay."

Hermione glares at the back of his  _ stupid  _ head. "You know I'm a fantastic marksman, right?" He just wasn't getting how  _ annoyed _ she was with him and his  _ stupid _ wheel for keeping her up. And he was ignoring her!

"I know." He doesn't turn around.

"And would you believe that I can turn a person into a  _ slug _ ?" She crosses her arms in annoyance as he  _ continues _ to ignore her.

"I'd believe it."

He still doesn't turn around. He just keeps on moving his hands over the clay on his wheel.

Hermione has had enough. Her fists jump to her hips as she marches further into his room, not stopping until she's right behind him. "Didn't Molly teach you that it's polite to  _ look _ at people when they're  _ talking _ to you?"

He stops his wheel and turns around to look her in the eyes. "Didn't  _ your _ mother tell you it's improper to walk into a bloke's room without any trousers on?"

Fred turns back to his sculpting wheel and mumbles over his shoulder, "Pajama bottoms in the top drawer on your right. You can wear those while you scold me." There's just a  _ hint _ of amusement in his voice when he hears Hermione yelp in surprise and embarrassment.

She yanks his drawer open and pulls out a pair of flannel bottoms. "Just... Just be quiet, alright? I'm trying to sleep," She manages to stammer while pulling them on.

Fred swivels in his chair back to face her, barely managing to keep a grin off his face. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Hermione's slowly backing up toward the door at this point, face beet red. "Cast a  _ silencio _ , okay? I'm... I'm tired." She trips over the hem of the too-long pajamas on her way out, falling onto Fred's bed.

Fred lets out a surprised laugh and rises from his chair, taking a few steps closer to her. "Sorry -- sorry. You need help?"

Hermione holds out a hand in a stop gesture, "No! No, just stay... stay there." She scrambles off the bed and out the door. "Good -- Goodnight."

Before he can open his mouth, Hermione is gone, the door to her bedroom slammed shut, and Fred is left looking at an empty doorway.

He lets out an amused laugh, shakes his head, and returns to his sculpting wheel. Before he starts up again, he pauses and flicks his wand at the walls, muttering a quick silencing spell.

Fred chuckles to himself and shakes his head then runs his hands over his sculpture. Back to work.

-The following morning-

Hermione wakes up to several voices emanating from her kitchen. As it was her  _ only _ day to sleep in, she grumbles, turns over, and covers her head with a pillow, hoping to drown out the sound of laughter... But much like Fred's  _ annoying _ sculpting wheel, the sounds persist and keep her from the glorious oblivion of blissful slumber.

So for the  _ second _ time that morning, she slips out of her bed. Sighing, she opens her bedroom door, pausing to double check that she was wearing trousers.

An all too familiar voice calls out to her through a mouthful of food, "'Orning, 'Meenie!"

"Chew your food, Ron," Hermione sighs and shuffles into the kitchen. She nods at her other best friend before dropping onto a bar stool, "Morning, Harry."

Harry smiles teasingly at her, "It's 10 am, Hermione. What are you doing still in bed?"

"I had some trouble sleeping last night," she mumbles, head resting on her arms over the counter. "Did you two just come over to eat my food?"

Ron takes a couple stabs at his food, "Nah, Fred made these for us."

"Fred? He's awa-"

"Yes, Fred is awake. Don't act so surprised." Fred closes the bedroom door behind him and leans against it, raising his eyebrows, "Nice pajama bottoms, Granger."

"It's  _ Hermione _ ... and... thank you."

"Are those Fred's paj-"

Hermione cuts off Ron before he can finish, "No, no, no. These are  _ definitely _ mine."

"Yours, huh?" Fred grins and walks across the kitchen to hand her a plate of pancakes, "You sure about that?"

Hermione glares and takes the plate from him. "They're  _ mine _ . I've had them for ages."

"Look a little big on you, don't you think?"

"They're the  _ perfect _ length, thank you," Hermione sniffs. Unfortunately, she steps on the hem while walking toward the table and almost topples.

Harry shoots out a hand to steady her, "You alright there, 'Mione?"

She manages to gracefully lower herself onto a chair and set her plate down on the table, "Yeah, Harry, thanks."

"Yeah, I can see you're  _ definitely _ used to the length," Fred chuckles as he swished his wand at the dishes in the sink, making the sponge jump up and soap itself before lathering the dishes.

Ron swallows thickly, "You're going to have to get a move on things if we're going to meet the others on time."

Hermione whips her head around to gape at the two boys. "On time for what?"

Ron shovels food in his mouth to keep from talking and Harry shrugs, "It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

Harry huffs and runs a hand through his hair "I know,  _ but _ you need some recreational time. Ginny organized the whole day, and we think it'll be really fun."

Hermione stands and rolls her eyes. "You said Ginny planned everything, right? And you two did nothing to help?"

"Right."

"And this is going to be fun?"

"Way fun."

"This does  _ not _ look fun."

After apparating to a small alley and walking a block to their destination, Hermione scowls as she surveys her surroundings with the rest of the group. She immediately feels the blazing sun on her skin and subconsciously winces at the lines of people waiting to get into the waterpark.

"What do you mean 'this doesn't look fun'?!" Harry's grin widens as he takes in the waterslides twisting through the air.

"It's hot as bollocks out here and you think its fun to stand in line for forty five minute periods on the burning concrete?" 

Ron nudges her lightly with his shoulder. "Oh, loosen up 'Mione. You're going to have a blast. Come on, in we go." He gently pushes her forward to get in line with them. 

"I don't even have a swimsuit!" Hermione complains and rolls her eyes, arms crossing over her chest but allowing herself to be moved forward. 

"Ginny thought of that. She's waiting inside for us." Fred smiles, knowing she has no further arguments to use against them. 

After waiting in line for a sweltering fifteen minutes in the sun, Hermione sees Ginny waiting by the bathroom with a bag in her hands. The ginger is visibly excited and smiling. 

"Here! It was really difficult to decide which one to get for you, but I think this is the one! Hope you like it; go change!" Ginny gushes and shoves the bag into Hermione's hands, pushing her toward the changing rooms.

Hermione reemerges five minutes later with her arms crossed, trying to cover herself. She stands behind Ginny and hisses, "This is  _ not _ a bathing suit! It's just a couple of strips of cloth tied together!"

Ginny laughs and pulls Hermione around to look at her. "Hermione, you look  _ amazing _ ! You've got the total body to pull it off."

"You've got some gorgeous legs, Hermione," Angelina chimes in from her place between them and the twins, "If I wasn't engaged to George,  _ I'd _ be hitting on you."

"Thanks." Hermione smiles gratefully but is still trying to hide behind Ginny, who sighs.

"If you really don't like it, why not transfigure it into something you like better?"

"Here." Fred pulls his shirt off and offers it to Hermione. "Wear this over it."

Hermione looks gratefully at Fred and mouths  _ thank you _ as she shrugs it on. Ron laughs when the shirt hits the top of her thighs. "Nice, 'Mione. You look like you're drowning and we haven't even hit the water yet."

Ginny turns to Hermione and with quick hands she gathers up the bottom of the shirt and twists it into a knot, shortening the shirt to right above her hips. She smiles at Hermione. "Feel better?"

"Much. Thank you."

"Right. Let's go do some swimming!"

After going down several crazy slides with various members of their group and being accidentally kneed in the stomach by Ron, Hermione decides to finish their morning of swimming by floating on a tube in the lazy river. She's on her second way around when someone jumps on top of her tube and knocks the wind out of her.

"Fred--What, what are you doing?" She manages to gasp.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm relaxing with a friend, a  _ flatmate _ even." He gives her a crooked grin. When she gives no reaction, he continues, "A flatmate that  _ loves _ me."

She rolls her eyes and tries to shove him off of her. "Get  _ off _ , Fred. We're going to sink with the three of us on one tube!"

" _ Three _ of us? You're not talking about my-"

"Ego! Your  _ ego _ is the third person." Hermione looks slightly panicked.

Smirking, Fred slides off her but keeps a hold of her tube. "Still thinking about my great accomplishments I see. I understand your doubt I could stay humble what with my fame and glory-"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Oh, please."

He slowly spins her tube in circles as they continue down the lazy river. "I can't  _ believe _ how  _ lucky _ I am to live with a flatmate that thinks about my  _ many _ accomplishments and simply  _ adores _ my company. A flatmate that loves me  _ so  _ much she wears my clothes every opportunity she gets." He gently tugs at the sleeve of the shirt she's wearing.

Hermione flicks the hand toying with her shirt sleeve. "You won't have a  _ flat _ if you keep going with  _ this  _ train of thought." She straightens her shirt and quirks an eyebrow at him. "And besides... You gave me both the pajama bottoms and shirt.  _ Maybe _ I won't give them back."

Fred laughs and grabs her hand from her lap and brings it to his lips. "Of course, what I  _ meant _ to say was how grateful I am you took me in,  _ darling _ Hermione."

Smiling broadly, he pulls her through the water, lacing their fingers together. "Oh, generous and ungrudging, Hermione, queen that you are, can you forgive my moment of ingratitude and forgetfulness?"

Hermione laughs and tries to tug her hand back. That only makes Fred hold it tighter and plant a few sloppy kisses on their entwined hands.

She attempts to stop laughing and make a serious face, but when Fred gives her his big doe eyes, she laughs even harder. From between wheezes she manages, "Fred -- really -- I --  _ please _ !"

Fred grins as he slowly gets closer to her, "'Please, Fred' what, Hermio-?"

"Hermione! Fred! We're leaving! It's lunchtime!" Ginny interrupts their fun and waves them toward her from the sidewalk. "Let's go! I'm starving!"

In her moment of distraction, Fred lifts the bottom of her tube out of the water, successfully flipping Hermione into the water. Unfortunately for him, however, he's to busy laughing to notice a dripping Hermione jump at him and push  _ him _ into the water. She manages to get a couple feet in front of him before he recovers. "Oi! Granger!"

Ignoring him, Hermione laughs as she reaches Ginny. "Ready?" She asks with a grin.

Ginny gives her a confused grin. "Ready... Did I just see you holding hands with my brother?"

"No, well  _ yes _ , but no. He was just playing around."

"Uh huh."

"Really! Honestly, Ginny. Fred and  _ me _ ?" Hermione laughs and shakes her head. "There's no way."

Ginny hums in disagreement. "Stranger things have happened, 'Mione." She shrugs. "I think you'd be cute."

Before Hermione can make a retort, Fred comes up behind them and slings an arm around her shoulders. "So can I get my shirt back or did you want me to be shirtless at the restaurant too?"

Hermione removes Fred's arm from her shoulders and gives him a slight push away from her. "I'll give it back after I get dressed, now go  _ away _ , Fred."

Fred blows the two girls a couple of kisses before laughing and walking off toward the men's locker room.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." Ginny shakes her head, barely containing a smile.

"Good."

"But if I  _ did _ say something-"

Hermione lightly shoves her friend in mock annoyance and walks into the locker room.

Ginny's laughter echoes as they get dressed for lunch.


	6. Adjusting to Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred and Hermione get a bit more used to each other.

Thursday afternoon, the flat

July 12

At 2:00 pm Hermione wearily walks into her kitchen from the front door. There had been a new shipment of books that morning that she had to get catalogued before they were ready for shelving. She had only _just_ finished and was absolutely famished. She pulls out a box of takeout curry and sets it on the counter, but before she can dig in, she hears a loud thump and a stream of curses emanating from Fred's bedroom. 

Curious, she sets down her curry and drifts over to the door. Knocking gently, she pushes the door open. “Fred?”

He’s at the other end of his bedroom sitting at his work table and scowling at something in his hands. “Yeah.”

“Everything alright in here?”

Still scowling, he drops whatever he was holding and shoves it away from him, “Just peachy, Hermione.” He rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighs, his shoulders curving down.

Hermione leans against the doorway and cocks her head to the side. “I thought you were working today. Why aren’t you at the shop?”

“George and I have enough employees to mind the shop while we work on projects.”

“And that’s what you’re doing? Working on a project?”

Fred removes his hand from his face and waves at the objects in front of him.

Hermione cautiously walks in, conscious of what had happened the last time she was in his bedroom. Peering over his shoulder, she can see there are multiple dolls of different makes and sizes littering his desk. “What are you doing with a bunch of dolls?”

“Harry had us over to watch that one horror film with the dolls. I’ve been trying to charm _these_ to move when someone’s back is turned. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but nothing is working.”

“Hm… and you’ve tried the _motus sensus_ charm?” When Fred gives her an annoyed look, she raises her hands in surrender. “Sorry. I know you’re far from daft. I won’t meddle.”

Fred sighs and shakes his head, “Honestly, I might need you to meddle. I’ve been working on these for so long, I see their creepy smiles when I close my eyes. It's enough to drive a man to drink.”

Hermione breathes a small laugh and smiles before looking around the room and frowning. “I don’t mean to be rude, Fred, but is there a _smell_ in here?”

He grimaces and juts his chin at his overflowing laundry basket in the corner. “Yeah, I need to do some laundry. I was going to take it back to the shop and do it there, but I got caught up in this _pile of garbage_.”

“Fred, we _have_ a laundry machine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how to _use_ it.”

Hermione rolls her eyes and pulls him up from his stool by tugging on his arm. “Come on, garbage boy. Let’s do your laundry.”

Ten minutes later, Hermione has successfully given Fred the rundown on using the muggle machines. 

“So, that’s about it,” She shrugs. “You try.” She nudges Fred’s laundry basket closer to him with her foot.

“Okay, so… Separate the colors, right?” Fred begins shoving his dark robes into the washing machine.

Hermione hops up onto the drying machine to watch his progress and gives him a small smile. “You’re doing great.”

Fred glances up at her and rolls his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Thanks ever so.”

Hermione’s smile widens as she lets out a small laugh, “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound condescending.”

Fred straightens and gives her a one shoulder shrug, grinning. He reaches for the bleach but before he can pour it in, Hermione grabs his wrist. 

“No, no no. That’s bleach! If you use that with your dark robes, you’ll _ruin_ them!” 

“I thought this one was the detergent.”

Hermione pushes the correct container toward him. “ _This_ one.”

Fred takes it and pours it into the machine with his clothes along with the fabric softener. He closes the lid and presses the start button. Frowning, he watches the machine shudder to life. “Now what?”

“Now you wait until it’s done. Then you switch it over to the dryer.” She pats the machine she’s perched on.

“This sounds like a long, complicated process.”

“Not really. It takes maybe two minutes to set it up, and the machine does all the work. When it’s done drying, I usually dump it on my bed and fold it manually, but I know there’s a household charm to do the job. If you don’t already know it, I’m sure your mother would.” 

“Hermione Granger not knowing a spell? Bless my stars.”

“I don’t know _everything_ , Fred. I only research relevant magic.”

“And household charms aren’t _relevant_?”

She shrugs, “Why use a spell when I have two perfectly good arms?”

“Why use your arms when you have a perfectly good wand?” Fred fires back.

“I think hard work teaches you good principles and gets good results. I’m sure you know all about good results from all that effort you’ve put into the shop.” Hermione hops off the dryer, “Now, if you don’t mind, there’s some curry with my name on it in the kitchen.”

* * *

Friday evening, the flat

July 13

The next afternoon, Hermione enters the front door of their flat after a long day of meeting with book vendors. She makes the short walk to the living area and faceplants onto the couch, letting out a long moan.

"Keep that up and I might have to have a chat with the couch about the birds and the bees," Fred calls from the kitchen.

“Everything hurts and I’m _exhausted_.”

“So you’re going to make the couch do all the work then? What about reciprocity?” 

“Oh, shut your face. Fancy takeout tonight? I don’t feel like making anything. Too much work.”

“Well lucky for you then, as I’ve already made dinner. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

Hermione pops her head off the couch, “What?”

Fred rolls his eyes and walks around the kitchen counter to look at her in the living room, “I told you yesterday I was going to make dinner for tonight.”

“I guess it slipped my mind.” She sits up and stares at him.

“Well, it’s almost ready, so I hope you’re in the mood for squash.”

“ _Squash_?” Hermione makes a face.

Fred leads her back into the kitchen and hands her a plate. “ _Yes_ , squash. I told you I was going to make you like vegetables, didn’t I? I am a man of my word after all.” He flicks his wand and the oven door opens, the squash dish floats out and onto a hot pad on the counter.

“Do I have to?” Hermione whines and Fred lightly slaps her arm with a wooden spoon.

“ _Stop whining_ and eat the food you’re given.”

Hermione grabs another wooden spoon and slaps his arm with it, “Fine, _mum_.”

“Oh, shut up and eat, Hermione.”

After dinner, Fred calls from the kitchen table, “Today’s Friday, right?”

Hermione hums in response from the couch in the living room.

“And… it’s the 13th?”

Hermione slowly looks up from her book, “Yes… It’s Friday the 13th. Why?”

“Harry sent over a film he wanted me to see. I was thinking about watching it. D’you want to join?”

“You made dinner and now you want to watch a film with me? What is this? A date?”

Fred laughs at the wild look in her eyes, "No, not a date, sorry to disappoint. I know you've been harboring a secret crush on me for years. This is just some roomie bonding time."

“Okay… If that’s all. But remember the rules; _no_ pranking me.” Hermione glares ferociously, and he laughs again. 

“I remember. I _just_ want to watch the film. No schemes, plots, or pranks. I solemnly swear.” He raises his hands in mock surrender.

Hermione sets aside her book and tosses him the remote. “Good. Now, don’t you _dare_ forget.”

At the beginning of the movie, Fred sits at one end of the couch with Hermione on the other side and her feet in his lap.

When the first death flashes across the screen, Fred grabs Hermione's ankles and drags her closer to him, kicking and screaming. "Fred! You scared me more than the film did!"

Eyes still on the screen, Fred pulls her into a sitting position next to him and clings to her arm. "Sorry, sorry. Just making sure you're not scared and everything."

"It's okay to be scared, Fred. That's what horror movies are all about. You're _supposed_ to be afraid," Hermione laughs and gently tries to escape his desperate grip.

At a jumpscare halfway through the movie, Fred lets out a strangled yelp and jumps onto her lap. "You don't mind, do you? " He laughs nervously as he clutches around her shoulders.

They finish the movie and Fred slowly climbs off her lap. "Muggles are _messed up_ for coming up with that. What happened to happy endings?"

Hermione shakes her head, "Lots of muggles like to be scared. Maybe this Halloween Harry and I will take you to a haunted house. Of course there aren't _real_ ghosts like at Hogwarts, but people dress up and scare you. It's pretty fun actually."

Fred shakes his head, "Muggles are nuts."

* * *

Saturday evening, the flat

July 14

“How do I look?” Hermione spins in front of where Fred is seated at the kitchen table reading his notes on the doll project. 

He looks up and lets out a low whistle, “You look _smashing_. The dress reminds me of the one you wore to Bill’s wedding.”

“I _am_ a fan of the lavender color. And the cut is pretty too. Feminine yet sophisticated.” Hermione spins again and smiles at him.

Fred grins wolfishly, “Not to mention your figure in that dress. Why do you hide that away from me?”

Hermione pinches him on the arm but smiles nonetheless.

“Where are you going anyway?”

“A charity dinner with Mr. Austen. You remember him.”

Fred makes a face, “The bloke from downstairs. I remember. Why are you going with a git like him?”

Hermione hesitates before picking up her clutch purse, “He frequently donates to The Voyage, and I’m thankful for his help.”

Fred folds his arms across his chest, “I can’t believe that you would accompany someone you don’t like just because you’re grateful. He’s clearly trying to _buy_ you with donations! The Hermione I know would be clever enough to see that.” 

Hermione shrugs and tries to keep a smile off of her face and turns to go. 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.” 

Fred lightly grabs hold of her forearm and stands to walk in front of her. “Hermione, _what_?” 

She gives him a small smile, “You have to promise not to think too badly of me.”

Fred furrows his brow and nods.

“I’m not going because I’m grateful.” 

“But you said-”

“I know what I said. I didn’t want you to think poorly of me.” She laughs and tosses her curled hair over her shoulder. “Every time I go to one of his charity events, he introduces me to interesting and important people. I’ve already made a couple of friends and have made deals with several others.” 

“You’re… you’re _using_ _him_?” Fred looks completely gobsmacked. 

Hermione fake pouts before grinning, “That word has such unfortunate connotations. I prefer _friendly networking_.” 

Fred laughs and grins down at her. “I didn’t know you had it in you!” 

She laughs and curtsies. “Now, would you mind moving away from the door? I don’t want to be late to the party.” 

Smirking, he bows and opens the door for her. “Good luck with your _friendly networking_!”

“I intend to!”

Chuckling, Fred closes the door behind her and heads over to the kitchen looking for an evening snack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has subscribed, given kudos, and/or commented. You have no idea how much it means to me. I get a big ol’ dopey smile when I see it. Thank you, thank you! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	7. Pride & Prejudice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo wassup. uhhh no chapter update last week bc holiday weeks are made of circular time instead of normal time time. but also i'm off my adhd meds and Cannot Focus lol. But here! Leave a comment and make me happy please. I could use some spare serotonin in this winter time. :)) also no beta. we die like men.

Sunday, July 15

Sunday morning, Hermione is reading in the living room with her legs tucked under her when Fred collapses on the couch next to her.

“I’ve been thinking, Hermione-”

Hermione hums, not putting her book down, “Rather dangerous for you, Fred.”

He gives her leg a soft kick, “I have talents that require  _ much _ thought, thank you.”

“Mmhmm.”

Fred folds his arms, looking affronted. “I’ll have you know that I’m a  _ master potioneer _ and could whip up a polyjuice potion that would give even Mad-Eye a run for his money.”

Hermione lowers her book and grins, “Please. I was brewing that in my  _ second year _ .”

“Excuse me? You what?”

“Nevermind.” She shakes her head and looks away, but Fred adjusts to sit closer to her.

“No, really. You were given permission to brew  _ polyjuice _ potion in your  _ second _ year?  _ How _ ?”

Hermione raises her book back up, covering her face, “I wasn’t given permission.”

Fred gasps and pushes her book down, “Hermione Granger, you mean to tell me you brewed it  _ illegally _ ? How did you get ingredients? Boomslang skin isn’t something in a second year’s potion kit.”

Hermione sighs, “I stole it from Snape’s stores.”

“You stole -  _ you stole from Snape _ ?” He bursts out laughing, “And you chastised  _ me  _ for selling skiving snacks to students. How hypocritical.”

“Well, what  _ I _ did was to protect the school and find out if Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin. What  _ you _ did was enable other students to skive off class.”

“You broke into the Slytherin common room  _ and _ impersonated a student? That’s at least two school rules, Hermione.”

“When you’re friends with Harry Potter, you break  _ a couple _ school rules… and a handful of laws.”

“I’m getting the feeling I didn’t really know you back in school. You might have broken more school rules than George and I did all while getting praises from teachers. Classy, ‘Mione, classy,” Fred jokes, shaking his head.

“I don’t know how everyone thinks I’m above breaking rules. Harry, Ron, and I have defied Voldemort every single year since first year.  _ I’m _ the one that convinced Harry to start the DA. I broke into the Ministry  _ twice _ and then Gringotts and released a  _ dragon _ . I aided Sirius’ escape when I was  _ thirteen _ . I’ve been breaking school rules and ministry statutes since I was  _ eleven _ , and all anyone can see me as is a goody-two-shoes,” Hermione huffs, and reopens her book.

Fred laughs and gently takes her book to put her slip of paper in between the pages, “You have to tell me  _ everything _ .”

And so she does. Fred is a wonderful audience, enthusiastically reacting to her hidden talent for mischief. 

But the moment Hermione finishes the recap of her rule-breaking in sixth year, he jumps to his feet and pulls Hermione with him, causing her book to tumble to the ground. He swiftly bends down to pick it up and presses it into her hand. “We have to go to the Burrow immediately.”

“Fred, what-”

“Immediately!” He leaps over the couch and rushes into his room for a pair of trainers before pulling Hermione into the fireplace.

“Fred! My shoes!”

“No time!”

He hurls a handful of floo powder down and emerald flames swirl around them. They arrive in the living room of the Burrow and Hermione dusts off her jumper and leggings before stepping out the fireplace. 

“So there was time for you to pull on a pair of trainers but no time for me to even  _ grab _ a pair of shoes?”

“I’m glad you understand,” Fred grins at Hermione before pulling her by the hand through the living room, up two flights of stairs, and into the bedroom the twins had previously shared and in which George was rifling through a couple of boxes. 

“Fred, what are you  _ doing _ ?” She manages to keep up with him as he drags her into the bedroom.

He ignores her and turns to his twin, grinning, “Georgie, I think Hermione can help us.”

George looks Hermione up and down, and stares at her soot covered feet, “What did you do to your feet?”

She elbows Fred and folds her arms, “Fred dragged me over here before I could slip on a pair of shoes.”

“This isn’t the  _ time _ , Hermione.  _ Scourgify _ .” Fred points his wand at her feet and siphons off the grime before turning back to George. “ _ As I was saying _ , if we play our cards right, we could have the mastermind of the Golden Trio working with us at WWW.”

“You do know you’re talking about  _ Hermione Granger _ , don’t you? Former Prefect and famous rule stickler?”

“I think we got the wrong impression of our young Hermione here. You should hear about some of the things she’s gotten up to with Harry and our younger brother. Not to mention all the scheming and  _ friendly networking _ she’s doing at some spiffy parties.”

Hermione elbows Fred, “I only told you those things because you kept  _ pestering me _ .” 

Fred ignores her, but George looks her up and down, scrutinizing her potential.

“And you’re sure she’s mischievous enough?”

“Downright  _ devious _ .”

“I’m  _ right here _ .” She folds her arms and glares at the two boys grinning at each other.

“So, how do we convince her?”

“Maybe bribe her with some sweets?”

“No, she’d never go for that. She won’t even allow  _ biscuits _ in the flat.”

Hermoine huffs. "Still here." Neither boy responds.

“So we flatter her?”

“Nah, she already knows how smart and pretty she is. We’d just be bothering her.”

“The only option left…”

They nod at each other and turn to her with creepy identical grins and flashing eyes, “Corner her.” They finish the thought together and take a step toward her.

Hermione points her wand at the two of them and they freeze. “Boys, if either of you moves another  _ muscle _ , I’ll be forced to  _ hex _ you.” She keeps her wand pointed at the two of them until she safely backs out of the bedroom and flies downstairs into the main room and into Harry. 

“Oof, ‘Mione. What are you running from?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just…  _ away _ from the twins.”

“What did they do? You’ve got a deer-in-the-headlights kind of look.”

“Oh, they didn’t  _ do _ anything really. I made the mistake of telling Fred about stealing from Snape in second year. He told George, and the two of them got this idea in their heads that I’m going to be the third member of the mischief makers at the shop.” She sighs and shakes her head, “This living arrangement is  _ tiring _ , Harry.”

He laughs and swings his arm around Hermione, hugging her to his side as they walk together to collapse on the couch, “You’re a good sport, ‘Mione. And a good friend. You’ve saved my arse more times than I can count.”

“I think I’ve fulfilled my good friend obligations after this stunt,” She nudges his side and smiles. “I’m retiring.” She rests her head on his shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley walks in, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hermione, dear, would you run upstairs and gather everyone for dinner? We’re just about ready to eat.”

Hermione sighs and stands up, pulling Harry up with her. “If I’m not back down in five minutes, send a rescue party.”

“Afraid of the twins?”

“Just not looking forward to dinner with them.”

“Uh huh. Okay.”

“Seriously, Harry.  _ Five minutes _ .”

“Yeah, yeah. Five minutes. Go on. I’ll call Ginny, Ange, and Ron in from the pitch.”

Hermione laughs and takes the first couple of steps up the stairs. “Save Ron the humiliation of finishing their game with Angelina. Ginny says he hasn’t beaten her since our fifth year.”

“He’s gotten better!” 

Hermione snorts, and Harry’s laughter carries as he walks out the back door and Hermione makes her way up the rest of the stairs, calling for the twins. 

After resounding silence from the twins, she stands on the third-floor landing and almost gives up when she feels her wand ripped from her grasp and she’s shoved into the bathroom with George. 

“ _ George _ ,  _ what _ -”

“Hermione, before you say anything, I  _ know _ your bookshop is your life.  _ But _ , think of all the joy you could be bringing to all the little pranksters coming into the shop.”

“I like to think I bring plenty of  _ joy _ to the patrons of my shop.”

“But your brain and creativity would help us in ways you can’t even imagine. We could start a whole  _ Granger Danger _ line, and-”

Fred’s whisper carries through the door and into the bathroom, “Has she agreed yet?”

“Not yet. Give me a second!” George hisses back.

“Maybe I would be more inclined to help if I wasn’t just  _ kidnapped _ and  _ shoved _ into a bathroom with one of you annoying  _ prats _ ,” Hermione snaps.

George clasps his hands over one of hers, “So, you’re saying if we ask  _ really nicely _ , then you might help?”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “You two don’t really need my help. You’re both clever and imaginative. Think of everything you’ve already done! Your shop is wildly successful. You don’t need  _ me _ .”

“But your input and assistance would be bloody useful. You’re a genius, ‘Mione.” Fred’s voice carries through the door again. 

George takes her hand in his, “What if we promise not to label your products with your name? Then no one would even know it was you.”

Hermione sighs and uncrosses her arms, “It’s not that I’m against others seeing my name on the products. I just… I don’t think I could be helpful creating products for pranks. I’m good at planning for survival, but I’ve never planned a  _ prank _ . And I  _ hate _ being pranked.”

“Oi, wrap this up. Mum’s calling up the stairs.”

George sighs, “Hermione, we could really use your brain.”

“ _ George _ , you shoved me into a  _ closet _ . I think I’d rather not  _ conspire _ with my kidnappers.”

From outside the closet door, they can hear Mrs. Weasley join Fred on the third-floor landing. “Oh, fancy seeing you here, Mum. I was just on my way down to dinner.”

“Did you see Hermione on your way down? I sent her to bring you and your brother to dinner.”

“Why, yes, I  _ did _ see her. I’ll run and fetch her, shall I?” Hermione almost snorts at the modest and helpful tone in Fred’s voice, but George glares at her. She rolls her eyes but keeps quiet.

“Would you, Fre-Geor- _ dear _ ? Everyone is waiting in the kitchen.”

“You go back down and just wait for a moment, Mum. I’ll bring the two hooligans down for you.”

When the sound of Mrs. Weasley’s steps retreats down the stairs, Fred opens the closet door, “Time’s up. We’d better get down to dinner or Mum’ll have a cow.”

0o0o0o0o0

After dinner, Hermione walks into the kitchen from the living room and trips over a stray shoe. She falls straight into Fred, who catches her and helps right her balance. 

He raises his eyebrows at her, looking amused, “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

She just rolls her eyes and attempts to wriggle out of his arms, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. He nuzzles his cheek on the top of her head, “You know, ‘Mione, a bloke could get used to this.” 

“Oh, shut it, you prat.” She folds her arms across her chest.

“Is that anyway to talk to your knight in shining armor?” He cuddles her closer but yelps and drops his arms from around her when she pinches his side  _ hard _ . 

“Knight in shining armor, my  _ arse _ , Fred Weasley. You’re the one that took my wand and then proceeded to shove me into the upstairs bathroom with George.”

“ _ I _ ? Never. Must’ve been some bloke that looked like me.” He holds a hand to his chest feigning innocence. He drops his pose and swings his arm around her shoulders. “Are you heading back to the flat?”

“I am.”

“Bit early, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to leave at the same time as me. I just thought I’d apparate a block away and walk back. It’s a lovely evening, and I’d like to see Tilley’s flowers.”

“Tilley?”

“A neighbor. He owns the flower shop on the corner.”

“Another of your gentlemen callers?”

She laughs and rests her hand on his arm, “Why, Fred, you almost sound jealous.”

“You know I  _ pine  _ after you, ‘Mione. How could you ever doubt my intentions?”

She rolls her eyes as she slips on the extra pair of shoes Ginny had given her earlier, “Are you planning on coming with me to make sure my  _ gentleman caller _ doesn’t make any moves toward me?”

“Well, I  _ should  _ leave before Ron notices I’ve nicked one of his chess pieces. I’d love to join your little evening stroll and visit  _ Tilley’s flowers _ . Side-along work for you?”

Hermione takes his proffered arm. In the next room, they could hear Ron let out an annoyed groan, “ _ Fred! _ ”

“Ah, that would be our cue. Shall we?”

Friday, July 27

“Ace! Everyone drinks!” There’s a smattering of groans and laughter as the partygoers drain their cups.

Neville stands up and leans heavily on his girlfriend’s chair, “Sor, everyone. Hannah and I have a breakfa-birthday breakfast with her parents in the morning, and I… neeed them to not hate me for being hungover.” 

Laughter fills the room and Hannah stands as well, “Thanks for the parrty, Ginny. Happy birthday, Harry.”  The two shuffle into the fireplace and wave goodbye at the other partiers. 

Just before Neville throws the floo powder around them, Hannah whispers something in his ear to make him go red, and the twins wolf whistle. Seamus leans across Dean and casts a flaming heart charm in their direction.

The heart flickers out just after Neville and Hannah disappear, but not before Ginny sends a bat-bogey hex at Seamus. "Oi! No flames in the house! So help me, Seamus, if you burn down this house before I move in, I  _ will  _ curse your bits off."

Through all the commotion and Seamus swearing he had it under control, Hermione quietly stands from her place at the table and slips into the next room, closing the door behind her. Picking up the earlier discarded book, she curls up on the couch to read.

After a ten minutes of blissful reading,Fred pokes his head into the sitting room, “‘Mione? Mind if I join?”

She lowers her book and gestures to the other end of the couch, “Had too much?”

“Nah, just don’t want to get too crazy. I’m opening the shop tomorrow morning, and don’t want to show up completely wankered.” He drops onto the other end of the couch, “Besides George would take the mickey out of me if he thought I couldn’t handle the game, so I thought I could slip in here while Dean and Seamus say goodbye.”

“They left?”

“They said to wish you their best. Apparently, they’re afraid of interrupting your ‘reading time’ for whatever reason. Said something about a scar on Seamus’ left buttock.” Fred lifts an eyebrow, an amusing smile playing at his lips.

Hermione laughs and shakes her head, ignoring the last comment, “Seems _you’re_ not afraid of incurring my wrath.”

“I think the worst you could do to me is force feed me your cooking. I still have nightmares about your attempt at meatloaf.” Fred closes his eyes and shudders.

“It was  _ not _ that bad. You’re exaggerating,” Hermione kicks his folded legs and returns to her book.

Laughing, Fred rubs the sore spot on his leg. “What are you reading?”

“ _ Pride and Prejudice _ .”

“Sounds prestigious. Tell me about it.”

She sighs and slips a bit of paper into the book and sets it on her lap. “Sometimes I forget how little wizards know about muggle literature, even famous novels and writers like Jane Austen.” Shaking her head, she gives him a small, amused smile. “ _ Pride and Prejudice _ is about a family with five daughters. It follows one of the daughters, Elizabeth, and a very wealthy gentleman, Darcy, as they overcome their own pride and prejudice for each other and learn what it means to respect and love each other.”

“That sounds a bit like our situation, don’t you think? We’ve had odd first impressions, but I’d say we’ve worked it out to become friends.” 

She laughs softly, “The original title for the book was actually First Impressions. But she changed it after extensive rewriting.” 

Fred chuckles, “I’m always fascinated by the things you know, ‘Mione. I’m impressed by your seemingly endless knowledge of all things, muggle and magic alike.” 

She blushes and looks down at her hands gripping the book, “I don’t know everything.”

“Of course not. No one can know everything. But I think the way you spend your time - learning, teaching, sharing, giving - is brilliant. The world deserves far less than to have you constantly trying to better it and all.” 

“Thank you… I don’t think I often say this, Fred, but I’ve always admired the way you and George can make others laugh and smile - especially during the war. I think it’s a very admirable way to live.” 

Fred nudges her leg with his foot. “Quite the compliment. Especially coming from you. Ta,’Mione.” 

She laughs and they both turn to the door when it swings open, Ginny leaning into the room, “Are you two coming to play the next round or what?” 

“Sorry, Gin. I need to get some rest before work tomorrow. Some of us are responsible adults with very serious jobs.” Fred stands and stretches.

She snorts, “The day you get a serious job is the day I join the Chudley Cannons. What about you, ‘Mione?”

“If Fred’s leaving, it’s probably acceptable for me to leave. I have an  _ actual _ serious job.” Hermione stands as well and laughs quietly. 

The three walk back into the living room together and George looks over his shoulder at his place on the couch and wolf whistles, “You two finally done snogging in there? I  _ told _ Ginny not to interrupt you.”

Hermione rolls her eyes and hits him on the back of the head with her book when she passes him to hug Ron goodbye. 

Fred laughs and shakes his head. “Only in my dreams. ‘Mione won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole. Even if she does think I live admirably.” He winks and she rolls her eyes, smiling.

“Happy birthday, Harry.” She kisses his cheek and smacks George’s shoulder when he tries to get a goodbye kiss as well, “ _ No _ , George. Angelina is  _ right there _ . Get some kisses from your  _ fiancé _ .” 

“I get kisses from Ange all the time! I want a  _ Hermione _ kiss!” George whines and bats his eyelashes at her, puckering his lips.

“Keep that up, and you  _ won’t _ be getting anymore kisses from me.” Angelina kisses Hermione on the cheek and hugs her goodbye. “See you soon, love. Keep  _ that _ one on his toes, won’t you?” She inclines her head at Fred, who’s stepping into the fireplace. 

“Oi! I don’t need a babysitter. I take offense to the insinuation, Ange.” 

“I hope you do, Fred. I  _ know  _ it was you that infused my shea butter with skin dye.”

“You said you wouldn’t rat!” Fred yells at George and steps out of the floo.

“And have her blame me?  _ Are you daft _ ?” George shoots back.

“You’re  _ both _ daft, now let’s go  _ home _ , Fred.” Hermione pushes him back into the fireplace and takes a handful of powder. “ _ Goodnight _ , everyone.” 

In a swirl of green flame, they disappear back to their flat above the Voyage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, pals. Let me know what you thought!


	8. The Good and the Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A showcase of the specific points in the cohabitation where things get a little awkward for the two flatmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) no beta we die like dumbled*re  
> 2) I'll probably be updating every other week now. We've caught up to what I've written so far lol and writer's block is no joke

Wednesday, August 1st

It’s been three weeks since Fred moved in, and Hermione is pleasantly surprised how events have unfolded. Life with Fred in the flat has been relatively  _ normal _ , a word previously not used to describe anything regarding either of the Weasley twins. The two are generally able to go about their lives without disrupting each other’s, but there  _ have _ been a couple of instances where life became interesting...

* * *

Tuesday, July 17

The first occasion was an early Tuesday morning. Hermione woke an hour before her usual time and decided on a nice, long morning shower. She had slept on her shoulder wrong and was hoping the hot water would help soothe the aching muscles. She was only in the shower for five minutes, however, when she heard knocking on the bathroom door. 

"Hermione, make it fast! I need the shower!" Fred knocked on the door after removing his shirt, balling it up, and throwing it back into his room.

"I just got in! Give me twenty minutes."

“No way! You showered  _ last night _ . I need it this morning!"

"Can't it wait _ten_ _minutes_?"

"It  _ really _ can't! Get out!"

"Fred!"

" _ Hermione!  _ I have a meeting with a potential vendor this morning, and I  _ cannot _ be late, so you’d better hurry up before I unlock this door and push you out myself.” 

“You wouldn’t  _ dare _ !” 

"Just  _ try _ me! I can't be late today!"

"Alright,  _ alright _ . Just let me rinse off the soap!" Grumbling, Hermione quickly rubbed away the remaining residue and turned off the water. 

She wrapped a towel around her and opened the bathroom door.  _ Unfortunately _ , Fred was leaning against the door and fell backwards into her, knocking them both to the ground. 

Groaning, Fred pushed himself off Hermione and offered a hand to help her up. She took it and carefully got up, keeping one hand clutching the front of her towel to keep it up.

Fred rubbed a hand over his elbow where he had hit it against the doorknob falling down. “Why are you even up this early?"

"My shoulder hurt. And now the rest of me hurts,  _ thank you very much _ ." She massaged her shoulder with one hand while the other kept her towel wrapped around her.

Fred glanced at her shoulder momentarily before flicking back to meet her eyes. "You okay?" 

“Yeah, I'm fine," Noticing his bare chest, she cleared her throat then looked back up to him. "There’s, uh, still some hot water left.” 

“Right. Thanks… I might need some cold right now,” Fred chuckled awkwardly, and Hermione pinched him before slipping out of the bathroom and into her bedroom to get ready for the day.

0o0o0o0o0

Thursday, July 26th

The second was on the following Thursday. Hermione had just finished her third overhaul on the inventory and was  _ exhausted.  _ All she wanted was her leftover curry and a quick nap before her meeting with a couple of book vendors. She had  _ planned _ on working through lunch because of the heavy load, but the growling in her stomach and heaviness in her eyes convinced her that taking a small break wouldn't be a terrible idea. She made her way back into the flat and over to the kitchen to warm up her curry. She was just about to take her first bite when she heard the wireless tuning in the parlor.

Curious, Hermione crossed the living room and lightly tapped on the stained-glass before opening the door. “Fred?”

“No, wait!” Fred's frantic voice called out on the other side. Too late, Hermione pushed the door completely open to reveal a very naked Fred, who snatched up his canvas to cover his lower half.

" _ What _ are you  _ doing? _ " She yelled at him, blushing to the roots of her curly hair.

Fred haphazardly shoved his paint brushes into a cup of warm water while keeping his canvas between him and Hermione, “I told you not to come in here!”

“ _ Why  _ are you _ naked _ in my parlor?”

“- _ Our _ parlor-”

“-And why are you in here instead of a private space like  _ your bedroom? _ ” Hermione was caught between wanting to glare at Fred and keeping her eyes averted. The result was her switching between glaring at him and the canvas covering him.

“The natural light is better in here. And I was  _ supposed  _ to be alone up here because  _ you _ said you’d be working  _ downstairs  _ all day!" 

"I came back for lunch!”

“Be nice if you had _mentioned_ that in your plan for the day. Could've prevented awkward situations like _this_.” He made the mistake of waving his arms while gesturing, which allowed Hermione to get an eyeful of Fred in all his naked glory.

She stood out of the way of the door and pointed to his bedroom while staring fixedly at the floor. “Just-just go put on some clothes." 

He sprinted into his room, trying to cover himself without the aid of his canvas, but Hermione still had a full view of his backside.

He emerged from his bedroom in a pair of trousers, pulling a shirt over his head. “New rule. Closed doors mean knocking and  _ waiting _ to be let in.”

Hermione came to stand directly in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. " _ Speaking _ of rules, Fred, we said  _ no Naked Tuesdays. _ " 

"It's Thursday! Loophole," Fred smirked as he leaned against the counter and drew her curry toward him. 

Hermione smacked the spoon from his hand and pulled the bowl back to herself.

"C'mon, 'Mione. Admit it. You secretly like the idea of me wandering around naked up here. You can't  _ wait _ to get your hands on this," he swept his hand down his body and wriggled his eyebrows at her. 

Hermione pinched his side.

Fred yelped and rubbed his side, brows now furrowed in pain, " _ Why _ do you always  _ pinch _ me?"

"What, I thought you  _ wanted _ my hands on you."

"Not like  _ that _ ."

Hermione simply shrugged and took a bite of her curry.

It had gone cold.

Hours after the nude painting fiasco and after Hermione had closed shop for the night, Hermione woke at 2 a.m. with a burning thirst. She crawled out of bed and paused at the door to pull on Fred's pajama bottoms. She could hear the telly playing at a low volume from the living room and didn't want to get caught in only her shirt and knickers again.

As the door closed behind her, Fred spoke without turning from his spot on the couch. "Did I wake you?"

"No, just thirsty… Fred, are you okay?" Something in his voice sounded off. She shuffled closer to him and could see tears in his eyes.

“How has no one stopped this?” His shining eyes were glued to the documentary playing on her telly.

Hermione sat on the arm of her couch, taking in the piles of trash montage flashing across the screen. "Garbage Island? Not a lot of people have the power or finances to do much."

"What if everyone uses reusable bags like yours? That would help, right?"

"It's not that simple," Hermione sighed.

Fred looked up at her, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Hermione stands and shakes her head. "Let me get a glass of water first."

She returned with two glasses of cool water. Setting one in front of Fred on the coffee table, she wiped the condensation on the pajamas bottoms before sitting and sipping hers.

Fred also took a sip his eyes following her movements and snorted, "Nice pajamas." 

"Thanks, they're comfortable." She smiled teasingly.

"Do you plan on giving them back?"

"Not really."

Rolling his eyes, Fred took another sip of water. "Tell me what you meant before… that people can't really help."

Hermione shivered, "Aren’t you cold?” 

She curled into him to steal his body heat, tossing a throw blanket over them. When she had finally settled in, Fred positioned his arm around her and gently pressed her into his side. "How do we fix it?"

"Really, a big part of the problem is large corporations. They use a certain type of fuel to power their production, and the fuel ruins the environment - polluting water, air, soil. Then the environment is no longer able to support the inhabitants - bacteria, plants, animals, people.

"And  _ then _ there's single-use plastics and non-biodegradable products. Corporations and factories use products that can’t break down naturally. All the trash goes into landfills and the ocean, which then forms pseudo-islands like that.

"There  _ are _ things that normal people can do… compost, recycle, buy natural and biodegradable products. But… the companies that use natural ingredients and products usually come with higher price tags, and middle to lower class individuals can't always  _ afford _ what's best for the environment…

"And even if everyone  _ could _ afford it and are committed to making the change, the problematic corporations are still decimating the environment."

"So, it's a helpless cause?"

"It's easy to think that way and lose hope, but we can always do our part to not contribute to things like Garbage Island and to help educate others on humanity's impact in the world."

Fred frowned and turned his attention back to the telly, settling his head on top of Hermione's curls.

He didn't notice that Hermione had fallen asleep next to him until the documentary was finished. He looked over at his strangely silent companion. She had frequently talked through the few films they watched together to point out amusing facts and inaccuracies. He tried to shift his arm away from Hermione, but she moved in her sleep, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Fred allowed Hermione ten minutes more of her sleep before gently removing her arms from around him. "Hermione, wake up."

"Hm?" Hermione raised her head and looked around slightly confused and dazed.

Fred slowly moved back from her and helped prop her head up. "You should go back to bed. It's nearly three."

Standing, Hermione groaned and stretched. "Thanks for waking me." She smiled groggily at Fred, "You're a good flatmate… best I've had." 

Fred's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline at her comment and grinned crookedly, "Oh? And why is that?" 

"You don't leave food in the crisper to expire and actually clean up after making messes. And you're actually rather considerate."

Fred shot up from the couch, " _ Excellent _ . I'm off to tell Ronniekins you said I'm better than him. I'll bet he'd  _ love  _ to hear that."

Before he could get into the floo, however, Hermione blocked his path, looking decidedly less tired. "You will absolutely  _ not _ be telling him that."

Fred grinned as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "And why is that?"

" _ First _ , it's almost three, and it's rude to barge into people's homes in the middle of the night.  _ Second _ , he already has an inferiority complex and doesn't need to be told  _ any  _ of what I just said."

"As Ron's elder  _ and better _ brother, I feel it's my duty to make him aware that he should be emulating my every action. Because as the  _ great Hermione Granger _ said, I am the  _ superior _ flatmate."

Glaring, Hermione took another step closer to Fred, her index finger poking his chest, "Back  _ away _ from the floo."

"Make me." Fred took another step forward, almost nose and nose with Hermione, his eyes flashing with mischief and challenge.

Hermione attempted to push Fred back, but he caught her wrists in his hands. Unfortunately, her momentum caused them both to stumble and fall with harmonizing shrieks. Fred took the brunt of the fall as he banged his elbow on the coffee table and Hermione fell on top of him.

Hermione pushed herself up onto her hands, holding Fred's gaze. "Don't tell Ron."

Breathless and more than a little confused at the ambiguity of her request, Fred stared back, "I won't."

"Good," Hermione whispered.

She rose and pulled him up before turning on her heel and swiftly making her way back to her room, closing the door without saying anything else. 

0o0o0o0o0

Friday morning, July 27th

The morning of Harry and Neville’s shared birthday party, Hermione was hunting for her watch. She had taken it off sometime the previous day but could not remember  _ where _ . She slowly pivoted in the living room, searching the surfaces for it. Groaning in resignation, she threw her hands up in disgust.

She crossed the floor to push the parlor door further open and leaned into the doorway, “Fred, have you seen my - wow. That’s  _ amazing _ .” 

She walked directly to the painting that Fred was working on and examined it. Smiling in awe, she finally lifted her eyes up to Fred’s. “You did this? Is this what you were working on the other day?” 

Fred nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, reddening slightly, “Yeah… Erm, what was it you were looking for?” 

“Oh, right. I was wondering if you had seen my watch anywhere. I can’t find it for the  _ life _ of me.” Hermione glanced around the room as if hoping the watch might jump out at her.

Fred shook his head, “Have you checked your office?”

Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands, “My office. It should have been the first place I looked. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Fred murmured as he watched her walk back out the door, hair swaying hypnotically behind her.

* * *

Thursday, August 2nd

Fred’s eyes fly open and he sits up, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The silence of the night presses in on his ears, nothing to be heard but the pounding of his heart. After a few tense moments of silence, he sets his wand back down on his nightstand, having snatched it up unconsciously -- a habit picked up during the war.

He forces his muscles to relax and lays back down. He’s just about to drift back to sleep when he hears the sound that woke him -- a choked whimper. Slowly he grasps his wand again and slips out of bed to find the source of the noise. 

He finishes his inspection of the flat and is about to head back to bed when he hears a low whimper coming from Hermione’s room. Gently knocking, Fred opens the bedroom door, “Hermione?” 

The only response is a broken sob. He pushes the door further ajar, allowing him to barely make out Hermione’s form -- legs tangled in the sheets, hair fanned out on her pillow, a light sheen of sweat coating her skin. 

She lets out another sob, this time accompanied by a chocked, “No. _ Stop _ . I don’t know, I don’t  _ know _ .” 

Fred quickly crosses the space between them and bends over Hermione, one hand grasping hers, the other smoothing hair away from her face. “Hermione,  _ wake up _ . You’re home. It’s over.  _ It’s all over _ .”

She wakes with a cry, eyes wide and red. Uncomprehending, she struggles with Fred a moment before going limp. She squeezes her eyes closed, but tears stream down her face. She takes a deep breath, but her lungs betray her, and she clutches Fred’s arm as she starts to shake, the tears flowing relentlessly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” She whispers over and over, barely audible.

Fred sits on the side of the bed and hugs her close to his bare chest, his arms wrapped around her and his hand rubbing soothing circles across her back.

When it seems as though the worst has passed, Fred gently disentangles himself from her. He silently conjures a cup and fills it with water, gently offering it to her. 

Hermione takes the cup thankfully and sips from it. She breaks their silence, “I’m sorry for waking you.”

Fred shakes his head and smooths a piece of hair behind her ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you sooner.”

Hermione gives a watery sort of smile, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Silence reigns between them while Hermione slowly slips from Fred's conjured cup.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly four.”

“Ah.”

Hermione finishes the water and reaches for her wand to vanish the conjured glass, but her hands are shaking too badly.

“Let me.” Fred vanishes the cup and sets his wand next to hers on the nightstand. “Do you want to talk about it?” At her frown, Fred backtracks, “Of course you don’t have to, but if you want to, I’m here… I still get them sometimes too… Most of the time, it’s George lying there, and I couldn’t save him. Sometimes it’s Mum or Gin or…” He clears his throat. “Having an active imagination isn’t always fun and pranks.”

Hermione furrows her brow in sympathy before shaking her head. “It’s not my imagination. It’s a memory.” Hermione closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “We… we were captured.” 

Fred takes her shaking hand in his warm ones and smoothes his thumb over her white knuckles. 

“I got Harry in the face with a stinging curse so they couldn’t recognize him. They took us to Malfoy Manor… and they were going to call  _ Him _ when sh-sh-she saw the sword. She thought we had taken it from her vault and wanted to know what else we had taken.” 

“She? She who?”

Hermione closes her eyes, and a tear runs down her cheek. When she opens her eyes, her voice cracks, “Bellatrix.”

Fred releases one of her hands to wipe the moisture from her eyes. He gently pulls her to his chest, mumbling into her hair, “We don’t have to talk about it.”

Hermione shakes her head and pulls back slightly, taking a shuddering breath. “I want to. If… if you’ll listen.”

Fred brushes a knuckle down her cheek and smiles softly at her. “I’ll listen.”

Hermione breaks away from him and moves aside to allow him a spot under the blanket with her. They settle in, laying side by side, her hand gripping his.

“She had the others take Harry and Ron down to the basement while she… tortured me. I could hear them yelling and calling for me. I’ve never heard them sound so scared. I’d never  _ felt _ so scared… terrified… She tortured me, made me hurt, made me see things, hear things.

“At first  _ she _ was just scared I had taken something else from her, wanted information. But after a while, I could tell she was just enjoying it. She put down her wand and gave me this… and this…”

Hermione raises herself on her elbow to show Fred the scars, one on her neck, the other carved into her arm. Fred gently traces both, his eyes hard, jaw clenched… but his fingertips are gentle, caressing. Their gazes meet and Fred swallows, his mouth dry. 

“And then?”

Hermione lays back down, their hands clasped once more. “And then Dobby came. He apperated Griphook, Ollivander, and Luna to Shell Cottage, then came back for Harry, Ron, and me. He got us all out… but  _ she _ threw a knife just as we were apparating out.” 

She lets out another sob, and Fred turns on his side to face her, squeezing her hand and gently wiping her tears away. 

“He’s buried there. At Shell Cottage. We gave him a burial. He saved us, but we couldn’t help him.” 

She turns to him and buries her head in his chest. Fred smoothes her hair and holds her to him, whispering things to her all the time, “I’m sorry, ‘Mione. I’m sorry for Bellatrix and Dobby and that I couldn’t help protect you or help you… I’m sorry you were alone and couldn’t tell or trust anyone else. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

They slowly drift off to sleep, wrapped around one another, finding comfort and warmth in the other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y’all are confused about the timeline, most of this chapter occurs between the two dates of the last chapter which is why it’s written in past tense. The only “new thing” (which is in present tense) is the nightmares. 
> 
> Leave a comment and let me know what you thought!


	9. Favors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!  
> Welcome to my favorite chapter (as well as the longest) so far! Enjoy 🧡

Monday, August 6th

Fred arrives home through the Floo to find Hermione bouncing on her heels with her hands clasped in front of her chest, waiting for him in the living room. He cautiously removes his bright work robe while eyeing her apprehensively, “Haven't seen you this agitated since you cornered me in 7th year and asked me to join the DA. Alright there, ‘Mione? Not planning on starting another secret society are you?”

Hermione laughs and rolls her eyes, “Not just this minute, no. Fred, I need your help." She takes a step closer to him.

"You've a special talent for cornering people, you know that?" Fred chuckles and sets his hands on her shoulders, gently moving her back so he can step around her and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. "Are you in some kind of trouble with that Austen guy?"

"What, no." Her face scrunches in brief confusion before reassuming a pleading look. "This has nothing to do with James. I need to ask you for a favor." She follows him to the kitchen and hops up to sit on the counter next to him.

"What kind of favor? It's something dirty, isn’t it?" Fred raises an eyebrow as a smirk quirks up at the side of his mouth and he takes a sip of his water. 

He laughs and dances back when Hermione reaches forward to pinch him, water sloshing down the front of his shirt.

“I need a date for a wedding this weekend.”

“And you need me to… what, ask Lee or someone to be your date? What about all your new connections from ‘friendly networking?’”

“I don’t feel comfortable enough with any of them to go to a wedding. And I don’t need you to  _ find _ me a date. I’m asking if you’ll  _ be _ my date.”

“Me?”

Hermione nods as Fred mulls it over for a moment, using his wand to siphon the water off his shirt. He looks back up at her, tilting his head to the side. “Why not ask Harry?”

“He’s working.”

“Ron?”

Hermione chews on her bottom lip and picks at a thread on her jeans. “He met my family when we were dating. We agreed it would be awkward for the both of us if he was my date.”

Fred fake pouts as he places his hands on either side of her thighs, “So I’m your last choice?” 

“You weren’t my first choice, but you’re definitely not my  _ last _ .” Hermione rolls her eyes and gently removes a fuzz from his shoulder.

“Third choice is pretty good.” Fred grins up at her but frowns when she clears her throat and looks up at the ceiling, not meeting his eyes.

“Fourth? Who did you ask before me?”

“Neville. But he, erm, has a real date that night.”

“I can’t believe you asked  _ Neville _ before you asked your own flatmate.” Fred whines and moves her hand away from the loose thread on her jeans, intertwining their hands.

“He and I occasionally catch up and chat over a coffee. It wasn’t so odd for our friendship.” Hermione defends her friend and removes her hand from his, folding her arms over her chest.

Fred leans an elbow on the counter and rests his chin on a fist, looking up at Hermione with a thoughtful expression. “What would I have to wear? I’m guessing muggle weddings don’t call for wizard robes.”

“Is that a yes?” Hermione smiles down at him and crosses a leg over the other, leaning back on one arm.

“Of course it is. How could I say no to a damsel in distress, especially if it’s my darling flatmate. You could even let your imagination take over and convince yourself this as a real date, ‘Mione. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little  _ crush  _ on me.” He jokingly traces one long finger down her shoulder and arm to trace over each of her fingers. 

Hermione rolls her eyes and jokingly pushes him away from her, sliding off the counter back to the ground. “I think your pestering could possibly be the reason you weren’t my first choice,” She teases. She walks toward the front door to head back to her office, looking back over her shoulder at Fred. “Saturday. Be ready by five; I’ve already registered a portkey with the Ministry.”

* * *

Saturday, August 12th

That Saturday, Fred is uncharacteristically early in getting ready, sitting on the couch in a new navy suit and drumming his fingers along his calf, his ankle propped up on his knee a full half hour before their departure. After five minutes of this impatient waiting, Fred arises from the deep cushions and goes to lean into the doorway of the bathroom where Hermione is doing her makeup. 

He stands and watches for a moment as she opens her mouth in a comically wide imitation of a fish while dabbing on mascara. He laughs but quickly sobers when Hermione shoots him a reproachful look. He clears his throat and twirls a makeup brush between his fingers. “I realized I don’t actually know who’s getting married.”

“A cousin on my mother’s side. Noah,” Hermione replies, sucking in her cheeks to apply blush.

Fred lowers the brush and turns his full attention back to Hermione, “I didn’t know you had any family besides your parents.” 

“My aunt moved the family to France, but the son came back to England for Uni. That’s where he met his fiancé,” She finishes her makeup by spraying something over her face and turns to look at Fred. 

He had seen her in her usual everyday makeup, but this time she looked… shimmery and angled, eyes glittering as she collected her various powders and brushes. Fred takes several from the heap in her arms and helps her transport them back to her bedroom. “Are you quite ready?”

“Just let me get changed.” 

“Sure, sure,” He accepts, nodding. He looks around Hermione’s room from his position leaning against one of the posts on her bed but looks back to Hermione when she doesn’t move. “What?”

“I need to get changed, so… get out.” She makes a shooing motion at him.

He rolls his eyes, hiding his teasing grin and leaves the room for her to change.

After a couple of minutes, Hermione leaves her room and joins Fred in the kitchen. She turns her back to him, revealing the open zipper to her dress. “Zip me, will you?”

“Erm, yeah. Yeah,” Fred rubs the back of his neck then slowly zips up the back of the dress, his fingers gently brushing along her spine. He watches in fascination as goosebumps spring up under his touch. When the clasp is done at the top of the zipper, Hermione slowly turns to him. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he breathes back to her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hermione’s eyes flick away from his then back. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“It’s time to go. The portkey…” 

She turns his attention to an old skeleton key glowing blue on the kitchen counter. They both connect a finger to the key as the blue light grows. A jerking sensation tugs behind their navels as they leave the flat behind and land in what seems to be a  _ very _ small coat room.

Hermione trips over a fallen jacket and Fred catches her right as the door opens to reveal a very surprised coatroom clerk, poised to hang a coat in the closet.

“This ought to be interesting,” Fred whispers in Hermione’s ear. Then to the clerk, he grins and waves, pressing Hermione closer to him. “Mind closing the door, mate? Haven’t quite finished in here.” 

The clerk starts chattering in agitated French, some of the words ringing with familiarity thanks to Fleur. 

Hermione releases her hold on the front of Fred’s dress shirt and attempts to smooth the wrinkles out. She edges out of the closet, babbling back at the clerk, apologizing and pulling Fred with her. He does not miss the way her cheeks are flushed or the racing pulse beating at her throat.

They finally get away from the clerk and collapse against a wall, Fred laughing too hard to go any further. Hands on his knees, he wheezes with mirth until Hermione too lets out a giggle in amusement and embarrassment. Fred finally gets a hold of himself and straightens. “Well, Hermione, have you ever been caught in a closet with a bloke before? Or am I your first?”

Hermione rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face widens, “Getting caught in a closet is rather un-Hermione-like behavior, don’t you think?”

Fred takes a step closer to her and leans against the wall, “So I am your first.”

“First guy I’ve been  _ caught _ in a closet with, but not the first guy I’ve been in a closet  _ with _ .”

“What? Who-” Fred’s eyebrows fly into his hairline, simply buzzing with questions, but he is cut off when a tall middle-aged woman rounds the corner and almost walks into the two of them.

“Oh,  _ Hermione _ , darling! I didn’t know you’d be coming. Jean said something about a work problem coming up last minute.” 

The entirety of their greeting, Hermione’s Aunt Julia is eyeing Fred, sizing him up. “This isn’t your Ron, is it? I remember him being taller and… not as well built.” 

“Oh, erm no. Aunt Julia, meet Fred.” 

“ _ Enchanté _ , Fred.” Aunt Julia allows Fred to kiss her hand before addressing Hermione again, “I do believe you have a penchant for gingers, Hermione dear.”

“Well, actually… Fred is Ron’s older brother.” 

“Oh, so  _ that’s _ why you broke up. How delightful! It’s about time you’ve done something scandalous,” The older woman exclaims, clapping her hands together and looking between them.

“ _ Aunt Julia _ -” 

“Excuse me, dear,” Aunt Julia pats her on the cheek and calls out to another wedding guest, “Henry, please don’t touch…” her voice trails off as she makes her way over to a young boy who had run off with one of the bridesmaid’s bouquet.

Fred turns to Hermione and lifts two glasses of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and offers one to her. “That was interesting.”

“My Aunt Julia has always thought me a boring shut-in with about as much life experience as a flobberworm. And of course, I couldn’t tell her about the mischief I would get up to at school or even that I dated a professional Quidditch player to prove her wrong,” She sighs and shakes her head, an amused smile playing at her lips. Then for Fred’s amusement, in a condescending tone she adds, “Muggles.”

He laughs and puts an arm about her waist as they cross the main lounge to take in the view from the high windows. He sips quietly on his champagne while watching the guests mill about and conversing in the courtyard. “Where are we, exactly? I’m assuming somewhere in Phlegm’s native country.”

Hermione rolls her eyes but smiles up at him, sipping at her glass. “Chateau d’Argent in the Riviera province of southern France. My mother told me there was quite a row about where the wedding would be. Apparently her side of the family has  _ quite _ the flair for dramatics that clashed wonderfully with Aunt Julia’s own.”

“ _ Really _ ? Tell me all about it,” Fred grins down at Hermione as he hooks her elbow through his and walks them outside to the central courtyard where guests were gathering and finding their seats on opposite sides of the aisle. Hermione laughs and begins to tell him everything her mother had relayed to her about the dramatic wedding planning.

“Another?” Fred lifts her empty flute of champagne as he finishes his and sets it on a waiter’s tray.

Hermione shakes her head. “Probably not. I don’t think Aunt Julia would be any too pleased if I was sloshed before the wedding even fully starts.”

Fred laughs, “Though I think it would be a wonderfully entertaining prank to release a fully plastered Hermione on the wedding, I’ll keep my impulses in check.” He winks at her and she laughs back to him.

“Hermione!”

Hermione’s head whips around as she hears her mother call her name. Mrs. Jean Granger enters their row and takes a seat on the other side of Hermione. 

“Mum!” Hermione leans over to hug her mother. “I thought we’d see you before the ceremony. Where have you been?”

“We were busy talking to that Adams boy that used to pick on you when you were younger. Your father’s still over there.” Catching sight of Fred, Mrs. Granger smiles at him, “Well, now. This must be your Mr. Fred Weasley, the one staying with you, right?” 

“Wonderful to formally meet you, Mrs. Granger.” Fred offers his hand, which she readily shakes.

"And you. I'm afraid I only know Ron and Ginny aside from your parents. How many siblings do you have?"

"I have six siblings, five brothers and Ginny."

“That’s quite a lot of you.”

Fred laughs lightly and winks at Hermione, “Yeas, ma’am. It was always a madhouse at home.”

“David and I would have loved for Hermione to have siblings, but I’m afraid it just wasn’t in the cards,” Mrs. Granger shakes her head, but continues on in the conversation, "And Hermione tells me you own that joke shop in Diagon Alley with your twin. How is that going for you?"

"Business has been wonderful. Hermione actually inspired a new project I'm working on."

Hermione rests a hand on Fred's wrist, "I didn't know that. What is it?"

Fred winks at Mrs. Granger before looking to Hermione, "It's a surprise. But I promise you'll like it."

Mr. David Granger enters their row at that point and leans past his wife to hug Hermione, “Hello, little one. Your mother gave me the impression you weren't coming.” He takes his seat and leans forward to rest his arm on the chair in front of him to have better access to the conversation. 

"I was able to clear up the work matter on time," Hermione answers evasively. Luckily, Jean is too excited to see her daughter to notice.

"Are you staying a night at the Chateau or flying back immediately after?"

Hermione lowers her voice, "We're taking a portkey back tonight."

"Too bad. We would have loved getting to be with you more. We have some big news to share with you. Jean grasped Hermione's hand and smiled at her.

"How have the guests been? Anything dramatic happen between Julia and Nancy's family?"

Mr. Granger shakes his head. “It seems everyone has cooled off now that it's the big day. Speaking of guests, though, your mother and I were just engaged in conversation with Marcus Adams. You remember him; he went to elementary with you and Noah and lived down the street from Julia’s family. Seems he’s become a fine young man. Gone into accounting, you know.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, huffing out a breath. “I’ll  _ bet _ Marcus Adams is doing well for himself.” She leans toward Fred and mumbles out the side of her mouth, “An absolute  _ prat _ .”

Fred leans closer to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I could prank him. Just for a bit of fun."

Hermione bites her lip, actually considering it for a moment before shaking her head, "If I didn't care about ruining the wedding, I'd take you up on that. But I don't want Noah or Nancy to panic over the best man's hair on fire."

"Nancy's the bride?" Fred questioned, his head cocked to the side.

"Right. Speaking of…"

They hadn't noticed the seats around them had been steadily filling while they had been talking. Several speakers struck up a soft tune, and the wedding party slowly made their way up the aisle, smiling and, in some cases, crying. 

The ceremony was beautiful, though typical in vows, music, and the noticeable lack of pranks. Fred being the only one disappointed at that. After it had concluded, the married couple led the way to a four course dinner in an open pavilion plentifully bestrewn in flowers.

During the dessert course of dinner (a decadent dacquoise layered with almond buttercream), Fred leans toward Hermione and brings up their conversation from earlier, "Who have you been in a closet with?"

"What?" Hermione furrows her brow and lays a hand on his wrist.

"Earlier you said you'd been in a closet with a guy, but it was a bit confusing."

Hermione lifts an eyebrow, "And you're still thinking about it?" When Fred shrugs, Hermione continues, "What about it?"

"You said being in a closet with a guy is 'un-Hermione-like' behavior, yet you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I said  _ getting caught _ in a closet with a guy is un-Hermione-like. I'm not inclined to getting  _ caught _ , Fred," Hermione smirks then laughs at the face Fred makes.

Hermione's mother leans toward them, "What's so funny over here?" 

Hermione lowers her voice, "Our portkey landed us in a coat closet, and a clerk thought we were having it on when he caught us coming out of it."

Jean laughs and leans back to tell Hermione's father about their unfortunate experience with the coat room clerk. He was not so amused.

A half hour after dinner, the dancing commences and Fred and Hermione watch as the couple take up their first dance together. They end the song in a dramatic dip, Noah leaning down to kiss his bride. The audience claps and Hermione has to elbow Fred to get him to clap along. He rolls his eyes but complies. When the next dance strikes up, Hermione automatically makes her way to the edge of the dance floor. Fred follows after, but pulls her back before she can leave completely.

"Don't you want to dance?"

"Dancing wasn't part of the deal. It's fine."

"I don't want you going around and telling others I was a bad date, 'Mione." Fred jokes then leans in to whisper in her ear when she doesn't buy it, "And I actually enjoy dancing." 

Hermione looks up at him, trying to scrutinize whether he's telling the truth. "Do you really?"

Fred nods and offers his hand, smiling down at her, "If you would be my gracious partner, Hermione, I would love to dance."

She takes his hand, albeit hesitantly, and he guides her back toward the middle of the dance floor.

During the dance, Fred and Hermione end up dancing near Noah and Nancy. Noah sees his cousin and sweeps by them.

"Hermy! I didn’t think you’d come. Good to see you," Noah twirls his bride away and continues to make fragmented greetings to their other dancing guests.

"Congratulations!" Hermione calls after them, then under her breath, “ _ Why does everyone keep saying that _ ?” Fred chuckles then grunts in pain when Hermione purposely steps on his foot.

They finish the dance, but stay on the floor when an upbeat song plays over the speaker. Hermione can’t help but laugh at Fred and his tirelessly silly dance moves. He twirls and dips and sways her, and she can’t help but feel totally carefree, happy to look like a fool as long as she’s dancing with Fred. They take a break after cooling down to the next slow dance, and leave the dance floor. 

Fred deposits Hermione at a table and goes to get some punch to cool the parched feeling in their throats. Hermione leans back in her chair at the table, watching the other couples dance and giggling to herself. She bends down to fix the clasp on her shoe at her ankle when a shadow passes over her. She looks up smiling, thinking it’s Fred, but the smile drops from her face when she recognizes Marcus Adams.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Hermy Granger.”

“Only Noah gets to call me that, Marcus,” Hermione stands up, even with Marcus’ height in her sensible heels.

Marcus smirks then offers his hand, “Care to dance,  _ Hermione _ ?”

“No, thank you. I’m waiting for my date,” Hermione doesn’t even glance at his proffered hand.

Marcus drops his hand and sneers, “Did you have to  _ hire  _ a date? I heard you weren’t coming because you couldn’t find one.”

“Completely untrue, as her boyfriend is here with her,” Fred joins them at that moment, setting two glasses of punch on the table.

Hermione looks at him, stunned, "Fred…" 

Fred joins her at her side and laces their hands together, squeezing reassuringly. 

Marcus looks between Hermione and Fred, sizing the noticible height difference between the ginger and himself. "I was just asking your girlfriend if she would dance with an old childhood friend, to catch up. You wouldn't begrudge me that."

"I shouldn't be the one you're asking. That's up to her," Fred states, unsmiling.

Marcus' jaw clenches and he swivels focus to Hermione, "Well? Dance with me.”

Hermione straightens, “I’d really rather not.”

"Fine. Didn't want to find out what kind of hussy you turned out to be anyway," Markus turns away, muttering under his breath, "Tramp."

The next few moments happen so quickly, Marcus only has time to register a pressure on his shoulder, blinding pain in his nose, and then the cold floor against his back. Someone was yelling. A couple someones actually, and one of them was him.

"Fred! You-Marcus-oh m-we need to  _ leave _ ."

Hermione pulls Fred away from Marcus, but before they can enter the building and get back to the closet to take their portkey away, Aunt Julia comes out to see what the fuss was about on the dance floor.

“Hermione darling, did you see what happened? Why are you looking so flustered dear?”

Fred wraps his arm around Hermione’s shoulder, “Marcus Adams was harassing Hermione, and I punched him.”

“ _ Did _ you now? My, oh, my.” Aunt Julia looks Fred up and down approvingly.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Julia. Please tell Nancy and Noah how sorry I am about this-"

"Nonsense, darling! What a lovely turn of events! Here I was, thinking this was going to be the most boring wedding in the history of France when your dashing Fred threw that punch at the best man. What fun! No proper wedding ends without a little brawl, you know. Besides, that egghead Marcus boy had it coming to him. He's been nothing but unpleasant since the dancing began. And don't you worry about Nancy or Noah. I saw them sneak out the back door after the first two songs. Now, you two scamper off and I'll just settle some things here, hm?" Julia finishes with a smile and kisses Hermione's cheeks before slipping away to “handle” the situation.

Hermione pulls Fred by the hand back into the Chateau, through the lounge, and around the corner into the hallway where the coat closet was. When they're finally hidden from the other wedding guests, she turns back to him and inspects the knuckles on his right hand, muttering all the time.

"I don't know  _ what  _ possessed you to do such a thing. Could have gotten hurt. What if he had hit you back?" She takes out her wand and taps it against the broken skin and it begins to heal itself until it's the shiny pink of new skin. She looks back up to his eyes, concern and reproach written all over her face. 

Before she can speak, however, Fred puts a finger to her lips, "Before you start to scold me like a little boy, I'll be right back." He turns on his heel and whips around the corner, out of sight. 

Hermione closes her eyes and tilts her head back against the cool wall behind her, taking a deep breath. She reopens her eyes when she hears Fred's footsteps returning. He turns around the corner with a bottle of rosé and two glasses. He hands the bottle to her and with his spare hand, entwines their fingers again and leads her around the corner, through a hall, and up a flight of stairs.

"Fred, where are you tak-"

"Just wait. I saw it from outside."

He finally takes her through a door onto a secluded balcony mostly covered by trees and rose vines with plenty of foliage that allowed them to see the guests dancing in the courtyard below without the dancers seeing the balcony. In fact, the only place from the courtyard that did have a small view of the balcony was the corner table where Hermione had sat after their dancing and before the incident. Marcus was now occupying their abandoned table, attempting to stem the flow of a bloody nose before it could ruin his tux.

Hermione turns to Fred, who is grinning widely at her. He pours the glasses and offers one to her, but she drinks from the bottle instead.

"If I'm being completely honest, I  _ did _ just swipe that from the kitchen." 

Hermione shakes her head and wipes a bit of liquid from the corner of her mouth, "I really don't care about that right now."

He raises his glass to clink her bottle, and they quietly sip the wine. 

“He deserved it, you know. The guy’s an arse,” Fred states after a minute of silence as they watch Marcus finally mop up the rest of the blood.

Hermione breathes a soft laugh and looks up at Fred as he leans his forearms against the railing next to her. “Thank you. For standing up for me and saying you were my boyfriend. It…” Hermione clears her throat and takes another drink, staring through the foliage to watch the guests dance wildly to the song blaring over the speakers.

“I know you could have handled the situation, but I thought you might appreciate the help. You don’t have to do everything on your own, ‘Mione. It’s okay to get help,” Fred smiles at her.

She smiles back and nudges his shoulder with her own, “I know. And you’re my go-to now that I’ve seen some of your work.”

Fred laughs. “I’ll be there whenever you want to do  _ whatever  _ you want. Just warn me beforehand if it’s going to be something sexual. I have to get in a mindset for that.” 

He dodges but doesn’t quite make it out of the way before Hermione pinches his side. She then drains her glass and takes his hand to pull him back downstairs, “Come on. It’s time to go if we’re going to make the scheduled portkey.” 

When they arrive back at the flat, Hermione groans and faceplants onto the couch, kicking off her heels. “My feet are  _ killing _ me.” Hermione moans into the couch as the cushion at her feet sinks in. 

She feels Fred sit on the couch and gently take her feet in his hands and begin to press his thumbs into the soles of her feet. “Better?”

“You have  _ no  _ idea how good that feels. Heels are the  _ worst _ and  _ completely  _ impractical.”

Fred laughs then is silent for a moment as he continues to rub her feet. “How often do you see that side of your family?”

Hermione turns her head to look behind him. “I haven’t seen most of them since before my fifth year… when I obliviated my parents’ memories. Before I sent them to Australia, I had my parents write to my aunt Julia to tell them we were moving to a remote colony in Africa for a couple of years to fix teeth. I’ve only seen them once since the Unspeakables restored my parents’ memories.”

“Ah.” Fred is silent again for a couple of minutes and Hermione almost falls asleep at his ministrations until he speaks again. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve met, Hermione. I don’t think -- I  _ know _ I wouldn’t be able to do fully half the things you’ve done.”

Hermione sits up, “Thank you, Fred. And thank you for going with me… and for your help with Marcus.”

“You’re welcome… I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Fred offers a pitiful excuse of a smile before standing and walking to his bedroom.

“Goodnight,” Hermione whispers as he shuts the door behind him without another word.

* * *

Thursday, August 17th

Ginny’s birthday was the previous Friday, but she had been so slammed with practice for the Holyhead Harpies’ first game, that she hadn’t been able to celebrate it, and when the team captain announced they’d have a free day to let their bodies rest, Ginny immediately owled Hermione to schedule a girls night and breakfast the next morning.

And so it happens that on Thursday, Ginny and Hermione find themselves drinking at a muggle pub, talking and laughing about everything and nothing. And after a few shots and several drinks, the girls are pleasantly buzzed.

"So how has it been since Fred moved in. You haven't been complaining like I thought you would," Ginny asks, drinking a Cosmo the bartender had just passed her.

Hermione smiles into her lemons drop martini, "He’s been - it’s been - the arrangement seems to be working fairly well. He’s helpful and nice and clever.”

“You’re really not bothered by it?"

"It really hasn't been bad. I'm mean, sure, there were a couple of times he annoyed me, but I haven't throttled him-"

"-always a good sign-"

"Right!"

"What do you two do? I can't imagine the two of you ignoring each other, but I can't imagine you braiding each other's hair either."

Hermione smiles and finishes her drink. "He insists on cooking dinner at least three times a week, so we eat together and talk. Sometimes we watch films. We've played chess, or we've  _ tried to _ . You know I'm rotten at chess. He paints and does his pottery while I read. It's quite calming actually. And we went to my cousin's wedding together last weekend." Hermione giggles and swirls her drink before taking a sip of the new drink a bartender had placed in front of her, "He was a good date, and I actually had a really good time."

Ginny lowers her Cosmo and scrutinizes her friend, “Hermione, do you  _ fancy _ Fred?”

“ _ No _ . I… I don’t think so… okay, maybe - maybe a  _ little _ . He's nice! And he smells good and he's neat. And  _ funny _ . I mean, everyone knows the twins are funny, but he makes  _ intelligent  _ jokes. He makes me laugh…  _ And _ he’s grown up a bit. Or at least he’s stopped teasing me all the time. He acts more mature around me, like I get to see the  _ normal _ Fred. And I like the normal Fred," Hermione tries to defend herself with a serious face, but she ends up smiling into her martini while Ginny giggles at her.

“And is there anything else you’re just dying to tell me about him?” Ginny gently probes, smirking.

Hermione stills, now frowning, “I told him about Malfoy Manor… and what happened.”

“Were you okay? How did he handle it?” 

Hermione gives a sad smile and drains her glass, “He was really kind and helpful. He made me stop crying and he listened…”

“He’s always been a good listener.”

The bartender returns with another glass of Hermione’s choice drink. 

“Have you seen him without a shirt since the waterpark?” Ginny tries to distract her friend before the mood settles on the serious topic.

Hermione giggles, a blush spreading across her cheeks, “He’s quite built, isn't he? And his face is nice to look at. Especially when he does that little crooked smile. You know the one where he quirks up just the left side of the mouth.”

“ _ Classic  _ Fred smile, I know. I'm glad you approve." She looks around and scowls at a couple of guys yelling about something or other a little ways down the bar. "Why don't we head back to your flat and watch a bit of telly?" 

Ginny pays for their drinks with Hermione's card (it was  _ her _ birthday after all) and loops arms with Hermione, the two stumbling out of the bar and into an alley where they can apparate to the Voyage in safety.

When they stumble through the door to the flat, Ginny groans and toes off her heels. “Do you have some joggers I could borrow? Don’t feel like watching telly in this,” She gestured to her short leather skirt and tight top.

“Yeah,” Hermione motions for Ginny to follow her into the bedroom. When they get into the room, they both strip to their underwear and paw through Hermione's pajama drawer for something comfortable. 

Finally dressed in the loose fitting clothes, they traipse back to the living room and collapse onto the couch. Ginny switches the telly on and over to the Hallmark channel for a couple of sappy romcoms.

They're able to stay awake through the first movie and halfway into the second before they fall asleep, leaning against each other under a blanket.

The next morning, the girls are shaken awake at the unholy hour of 6 a.m. Fred leans over the back of the couch, nudging Ginny’s shoulder. “Hey. Why don’t you go lie down in an actual bed for a while and I make you breakfast?”

Ginny smiles sleepily up at her brother and pats his arm. “You’re good. I like you. C’mon, ‘Mione.”

The two girls rise from the couch and teeter to Hermione’s bedroom, but before they get to the bedroom, Fred pulls Hermione back. “Help me with the coffee maker. It’s making that weird gurgling noise without anything coming out again.”

Hermione grumbles and leans against him as she crosses to the kitchen counter. 

“Where did the directions I wrote for you go? It was taped right here.” Hermione taps the top of their coffee maker and looks up at Fred who shrugs. She sighs and opens the top, peering inside. “You forgot water.  _ How _ do you forget  _ water _ ?”

“I don’t know - is that my shirt?” Fred breaks off, pointing at Hermione’s pajama top and grinning.

Hermione flushes slightly, “Maybe.”

“Is  _ that _ where they keep going? I thought your washing machine was eating them or something,” He laughs and tugs gently at the shirt sleeve.

“They’re comfortable and soft,” she bites her lip and smoothes down the front of the shirt she’s wearing.

Before either of them can say anything else, Ginny reenters the kitchen at that moment, leaning across the counter. “I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep. Coffee ready yet?”

Fred glances back at Ginny and prepares three mugs. “Just about.”

Hermione turns to her friend and takes the couple of steps away from Fred to lean closer to Ginny. Purposefully placing her back between them and Fred, she lowers her voice. “Do me a favor? Don’t tell Fred what we talked about last night.”

“Don’t tell Fred wha-hng.” Fred’s whisper breaks off at Hermione’s elbow in his ribs when she hears him in her ear.

She whirls to face him, fists flying to her hips. “Don’t sneak up on me! And  _ don’t _ listen in on other people’s conversations!”

Fred backs up, one hand still on his stomach and a crooked grin on his lips. “What don’t you want Ginny to tell me? Were you  _ talking _ about me?”

Hermione glares at Fred and takes Ginny’s hand. “Don’t bother with breakfast. We’re getting dressed and then  _ going out _ .”

“Hermione, wait-” Ginny tries to calm her friend down, but the next moment, she’s pulled into Hermione’s bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

Fred takes a step closer to the door, “Does this mean no coffee for you two?” 

The only response is a muffled groan and Ginny’s laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone starts getting canonical on me, I know the books/films say Hermione obliviated her parents before their seventh year. But! She never really goes home after the fifth book. I think she did it at the tender age of 15 because that’s the point where she spends every school break with the boys and away from her family. I think she saw how the wizarding world (Voldemort, Umbridge, etc.) could hurt her family and she stored them away until she (and the boys I guess) saved the world.
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I'd love to hear from you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought!


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